


The Alpha Hunter

by kittypox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Complete, Established Relationship, Future AU, Gore, Healing, M/M, Masturbation, NOT FOR THE WEAK HEARTED, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omegaverse, Rape, SHEITH - Freeform, Slow Burn, Suicide mention, Violence, a/b/o dynamics, all characters present, alpha shiro, bond mending, did I say ANGST yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:06:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 184,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittypox/pseuds/kittypox
Summary: Back in the leader seat after 3 years of imprisonment Shiro struggles to maintain his focus pursuing the end of the Galra empire while fighting a war with himself. He is the alpha, the leader, but he doesn’t feel that way any longer. He had prayed that Keith would be able to pull him back from the brink, but his mate is distant, hostile even. They have both suffered but they’ll suffer more if they don’t mend their bond. It’s a solution that sounds easy in theory, but not so much so when Shiro realizes his mate has picked up some unsavory past times in his absence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I kinda blow at writing summaries, so apologies for that. I usually come up with a good one about 10 chapters in lol At any rate, welcome to my omegaverse fic! I've been itching to write this for awhile and I finally found the inspiration. 
> 
> Now, time line for reference: post season 2 future AU. This is roughly 10 to fifteen years in the future, depending on how you headcanon official ages, with Keith being 32 and Shiro 35. Zarkon has been defeated, but the Galra Empire has been taken over by Prince Lotor. There will always be a need for Voltron, it appears. 
> 
> I won't give too much away in these notes, so please read on and enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: This is a multi-chapter fic! I am just dense and don't know how to get it to register as such.
> 
> Catch me over on tumblr if you'd like (same handle)

The Alpha Hunter

 

“Shiro, _stop_. Think about what you’re doing.”

He wasn’t listening. The only voice of reason that Shiro was listening to right then wasn’t even a voice of reason, it was the voice of his crazed id lashing out, demanding violence, demanding blood, demanding retribution for imagined slights. With barely any provocation and no warning, the man’s hand had activated. A flash of violet light later, Keith had been shoved to the side, out of Kolivan’s reach while the dangerous weapon was pressed to the galra’s jugular. 

It was an alpha’s rage. There were only seconds to diffuse the situation. Even with Kolivan remaining still and unchallenging, he was another alpha and Shiro took an exception to his presence. Or perhaps Shiro was not enraged at his presence, but took exception to the fact that Kolivan was allowed within inches of Keith’s person. More than that, Kolivan was greeted with a warm, welcoming gaze by the man. Kolivan’s presence was wanted, calming. He could draw out that elusive little smile that Keith had hidden from Shiro for ages. Another alpha was pleasing his mate. That was not something Shiro could abide by. 

“Consider your actions carefully, alpha paladin.” Kolivan advised, poised despite how close the fire hot blade was to his throat. 

When Shiro refused to stand down, his mouth curled in a primal snarl, Keith stepped forward.

“Shiro. I said stop.”

At last the man reacted, narrow eyes sliding towards Keith. They held gazes for a long moment, but Shiro refused to be moved. How could he? There was an interloper, an unwelcome third party who has getting too close to his mate. That would have been unacceptable under normal circumstances but _now_ , with them as closed off to one another as they were, he knew what that meant: competition. There had been questions regarding his alpha-ness as of late, but this was one situation he would not allow to slip out of his hands. He hadn't walked through hell and back just to have another alpha swoop in and try to claim what was his.

"Shiro. _Stop_."  


Keith forced himself between the two men, planting a firm hand on Shiro's chest and pushing while Kolivan took a subtle step back. Shiro's fingers twitched, itching to dig into the galra’s thick neck. There was just enough distance between the two for Keith to worm his body close, grabbing Shiro’s prosthetic arm firmly and lowering it. Shiro allowed himself to be moved, his instinct to keep his mate happy overpowering his instinct to maim. No matter how sternly Keith glared though, he would not stop scowling at Kolivan.  


Before, he would not have been so rash or foolish as to attack out of turn, especially at an ally. He had not been the territorial or hostile type. As far as alphas went, he was a benign leader and mate. Occasionally, he had bristled when Keith got a tad too close to someone, but he had schooled his unfounded jealousy and carried on. At the worst times, he needed only ask Keith politely to be mindful of how close he stood to others and there would be no issue again. Now though, he didn’t know if he had the right to try and police his mate’s relationships, even as his alpha. Even if he did have the right, he wasn’t sure Keith would listen to him anymore.  


Where Shiro was failing as peacekeeper, Keith stepped up to maintain the situation. He had chosen the next leader of Voltron well. Suppressing a scowl, Keith pressed his body against Shiro’s, threading his fingers together with the man’s human’s hand, pressing their wrists together. He took a deep breath, allowing his anger to subside while his smell worked on Shiro. It did not take long; his mate was longing for his attentions. Even in the face of Kolivan’s intrusion, Shiro was willing to let it slide so long as his lover was paying attention to him. When the man was pliant enough to move, Keith urged him to the door, pawing at his arm, pressing close to his side, anything to get them out of the room.  


A strong arm circled his waist, pulling him tightly against Shiro’s girth. He fought to keep his anger in check, reminding himself how Shiro needed him, how the man was only acting on his instincts—no matter how troublesome those instincts were. Shiro had never had difficulty controlling himself before, but the man that had returned to him was not that same cool, collected alpha he adored. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out through his mouth, he relaxed against Shiro’s side, trying to find comfort in the man’s protectiveness.  


He couldn’t find any comfort, just annoyance. The man was attacking allies out of turn, letting his primal urges rule his mind. He didn’t need Shiro’s protection. He certainly didn’t need the complications his outbursts might cause. And to attack Kolivan, not just the Blade’s leader, but his kinsman—Keith was beginning to seethe. Shiro _knew_ how important his bond with the Blade members was. The revelation of his bloodline had been devastating, but rather than succumb to his guilt and hatred, he reached out to the good, finding hope in the Blade and in the virtuous galra that they had the honor of meeting. He cultivated those relationships, growing so much that at times he didn’t even recognize himself. He had been quite proud of himself. And now his mate was attacking his brethren in baseless, petty squabbles.  


Keith tore himself from the man’s side, cursing under his breath. Immediately, Shiro reached to pull him back, letting out a soft cry of despair. His hand was slapped away. He was shocked. Keith was not a typical omega; he pushed the limits of his mate’s patience, refusing to bow to their biological demands, never playing the role of simpering, docile slut, but he respected his alpha. When push came to shove and Shiro used that voice, he would bend. When he was needed for comfort, for reassurance, or whatever trivial need Shiro had, Keith responded dutifully, if not begrudgingly at times. Never had he slapped his mate away. Had he actually lost Keith’s respect?  


“I cannot believe you.” Keith muttered, turning on his heel. 

Shiro grabbed at his wrist desperately. “Keith, wait!”

He released the man instantly when he heard the low growl rumbling from Keith’s throat. Keith didn’t growl. Or, Keith didn’t growl at _him_. Once or twice he had heard the soft murmurs of a growl when they were faced with an especially annoying foe, but never at him…

“I’m sorry...”

Keith glared over his shoulder, offering no answer. He shook his head, sighing in aggravation before disappearing down the hall. 

\---------------

 

If Kolivan was offended by the assault against him, he did not show it. When next they gathered to discuss battle preparations, he sat quietly across from Shiro, gaze firm and unwavering, but no cooler than it typically was. Shiro had the good sense to be embarrassed, brows furrowed and mouth tight as he stared at the Blade leader. 

When Keith walked into the room, he noted the air, looking between the two alphas and scoffing openly at his mate. Several times during the night he had sensed Shiro pacing the halls, pausing at his door and lingering, likely praying that he would open for him. Keith took a seat, dutifully sitting next to his mate, but ignoring the hopeful smile the man shot him. 

_Cold_ , his mind hissed at him. He wasn’t being a good mate at all, hardly the proper bitch that he ought to be. Alpha was wanting him badly and he couldn’t be bothered to even smile. He didn’t have much to smile about, Keith countered his own mind. So Shiro was back. That didn’t negate the world of shit that was still sitting on their plate. He couldn’t even enjoy the fact that his mate was back with him because---it was too much to think about. He had to focus.

“Are we ready?” Allura asked, standing at the head of the gathering. At the collective hums and words of approval, she proceeded, recapping the past months events for the benefit of Shiro and the recently arrived Blade members. 

It was tedious, hearing it again, when all he wanted to do was forget, but Keith forced his mind to remain on point. At the mention of the Galatride base incident, he felt the weight of the room shift onto him. It was in his head, he was sure. His comrades had made it clear that they did not place any blame on his shoulders—but he certainly was not imagining the sly half glances and wary looks each of his fellow paladins shot him. Shiro remained thankfully oblivious to the looks, intent on catching up on all he had missed.

There was a good amount for him to catch up on though; three years was a chunk of time too large to easily summarize, although the princess did her best. Zarkon’s personal battleship had been crippled and the emperor had to retreat to rebuild his army, seven solar systems had been liberated, five new Blade bases were erected; the entire shape of the battlefield had changed. Their forces were greater than ever. They were no longer rogue defenders appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly. They were a well organized rebellion of concerted effort. 

It was praiseworthy progress and Shiro was quick to congratulate his team, but inwardly he felt as if he were drowning. The names were foreign, the faces surrounding him unknown. Hardly a thing that came out of the princess’ mouth made sense. He had so many questions, he didn’t even know where to begin. The tablet that Pidge had given him with pages and pages of notes was just as intimidating, although he thought he could slog through it, if he was given enough time alone. For the time being, he had to sit mutely, nodding stupidly as they discussed some new rebel group that had risen to some fame in the last several months. None of the others seemed to be impressed, were he to judge by the bland expressions. 

Voices clamored, ideas tossed about, suggestions of action, expressions of annoyance. He could not concentrate on a single thought or voice; it was momentary pandemonium. Shiro set his mouth into a firm line, an anxious hum escaping him. It was chaos. Anger was beginning to rise between differing parties. Someone slammed a fist onto the table. Pidge threw her hands up with an annoyed exclamation. 

A warm hand covered his suddenly, firmly pressing his fingers to the table surface. The world crashed back into focus. Shiro looked over to Keith in surprise. He was regarded with a chilly expression, but the man held on, waiting until he was certain that Shiro had been grounded. 

“Stop.” Keith whispered.

 _Stop_? Shiro furrowed his brow. What had he been doing? His fingers twitched beneath Keith’s hand and his mate glowered. _Oh_. Shiro looked at their hands, noting how his pointer and middle finger were arched into Keith’s palm. He had been tapping. 

He glanced back to Keith, apologetic. “Habit.” 

It was his nervous tick, one of the few things he hadn’t been able to kick after escaping the galra the first time. Almost daily he caught himself tapping out rhythms of three against walls, tables, even his own arm. The beat soothed him, which seemed strange when he actually paused to think about it, seeing as that rhythm was connected to the most horrible part of his life. 

At least he had his anchor to keep him in place, he thought, turning his palm over and threading his fingers with Keith’s. Immediately, his mate’s smell changed. His annoyance was so pungent Shiro almost let go. Almost. He could count the number of physical interactions he and Keith had since his return on both hands. Hell itself would have to open up and take him in order for him to let go. Minutes later, when he had had as much as he could stomach, Keith pulled his hand back, but Shiro refused to let go, tugging his hand right back. The glare he received was skin boiling, but he merely smiled back.

Eventually Keith’s scent changed from broiling in silent rage to ‘I am tolerating this because it is my duty’. It was still a rather unpleasant smell, but Shiro was determined to stick it out. He refused to let go, even when their palms turned sweaty and slippery. Once upon a time, his mate would not have minded prolonged displays of affection, but now Keith was fidgeting, tugging at his hand every few minutes in the hope that Shiro would release his hold just enough so that he could slip free. Were they not amid the others, Shiro would have leaned over and teasingly whispered to his lover, _Not a chance in hell_. His playful grin said enough and Keith returned it with a venomous expression. 

A sharp cough brought their attention to the matter at hand. At last they had gotten to the heart of the meeting. A hologram phased into being at the center of the table for all to see. It had been some time since Shiro had seen the presented face, but even with the added age and battle wounds, he recognized it well. His stomach dropped suddenly, his head light and fuzzy. At that moment, Keith ripped his hand free, slamming both palms on the table and scowling as if the devil himself had appeared before them, the doors to hell thrown open and the beasts from within fleeing with intent to begin the destruction of time. 

“ _Lotor_.”

\------------------------------

 

A great number of mysteries had been presented at the meeting and Shiro was determined to unravel at least a few of them. Names and places would come in time, but there was more to uncover. He might be shell shocked, depressed, suffering from PTSD that crippled him daily, but he wasn't an idiot. He could still latch onto subtle clues. He wasn't so oblivious that he hadn't noticed the tension in the air as a lost base was discussed. There were things that his comrades were not telling him, things that they either thought him too frail to handle at the moment or that they desperately wished to forget and never be spoken of again.

Which brought him to the first great mystery: Lotor. Their loathing for the imperial prince was nothing new. Since the first day they had encountered the prince, he had been a royal pain in their collective side--no pun intended. The team's attitude had changed though, morphing from annoyance to insult and indignation. As soon as Lotor's image flickered to life, Keith was in a spitting rage. It was impossible to reign in his aggression, so the man excused himself so as not to be an interruption. 

The leader part of him had awoken at the unusual behavior, urging him to chastise Keith and command him back to his seat. He hesitated though. The eyes that followed Keith as he left were sympathetic, mournful almost. Even Allura, who did not tolerate any nonsense or emotional weakness in the face of galactic war, remained silent as he left. Shiro was immediately concerned. He had caught eyes with the princess, probing her for some answer, but she pressed her lips into a hard line and began speaking again, directing them towards a new thread of discussion.

A vivid image came to mind of the last time he had seen Lotor. It had been one of his last missions with the paladins, drawn to an underdeveloped planet by a distress beacon. It had, for all appearances, been a routine liberation mission. At the time, those types of missions were common, almost a daily occurrence. The appearance of galra soldiers was not unexpected. The appearance of the imperial prince was. Over time, the memories of the bungled mission had grown fuzzy, but Shiro always hung on to one moment, as clear and sharp as if had been yesterday. 

Somewhere in the frantic fray he had lost sight of his teammates. Wave after wave of drones descended upon him and he struggled just to stay on his feet. He should have known that it was a diversion. It wasn't until the communication line erupted with the sounds of a scuffle and Lotor's pleased chuckling that he noted the prince was no longer present. Panic had lent him the strength to break through the line of drones.

_Let go of me! Get off! Stop!_

The mournful looks he had seen in the conference room earlier were no real mystery, the more Shiro dwelled on it. That mission, he had gone into his first real alpha rage, tearing the prince off of his mate and attacking with a fury he had not known he possessed. When the battle was over and he had reached for Keith, the young man had flinched back, staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Keith didn't cry--he never cried--but he allowed himself a moment or two of weakness and leaned against Shiro heavily.

It had been stupid of him to let Keith out of his sight with Lotor about. The prince had been nothing if not forward about his intent to mate and he had no qualms about using force to get his way. And with Shiro out of the picture for three years...

Shiro clenched his fist, grinding his teeth painfully. Keith was no delicate piece of porcelain, but he was only human. And, as his alpha, it was his duty to keep Keith safe. He might have been lax once; he wasn't going to allow it again. And if they would soon be making a move against Lotor, he had to step up and quickly. Not just as leader of the paladins, but as an alpha whose mate needed him.

He changed course, veering towards the training room. His sense of smell seemed to have been damaged during his capture, but he didn’t need to smell Keith to know where he was. It was routine for the man to end his day with a round of training. 

Keith’s smell hit him somewhere about halfway down the hall. His nose twitched unhappily. That had been one of the most difficult things to grow accustomed to, once he was properly in place in the castle: Keith’s scent. It had changed. Countless nights before he had pressed his mate close to his body, nosing greedily at his neck and drinking in the soft, welcoming smell. Keith was fire and brimstone incarnate, but his smell was like a sweet rain, gentle and subtle, drawing one in and drowning them. 

When they had been reunited he had been confused, taken aback by the foreign scent. There was still a subtle tinge of sweetness, but it was weak, buried beneath a spicy musk he had never known Keith to possess. They had stared at one another awkwardly and Shiro realized that Keith wasn’t the only one who smelled alien. Years alone, he hadn’t noticed how his heavy scent had dulled into something meek and unpleasant. It was no wonder Keith refused to let himself be scented now.

The door to the training deck slid open as a training droid soared overhead. Shiro cringed at the metallic crunch its frame made as it collided with solid wall. He looked at Keith, standing amid a battlefield of downed droids and felt his heart flutter. He wasn’t the mate that Shiro had left behind years ago, but Shiro still felt the earth move each time he saw him. The plains of flesh he had known by heart had changed. Keith’s hair hung down his back, wet hair sticking to his nape and bare shoulders sensually. Over the years Keith had filled out, no longer the lanky boy he had been. He was a man now with a body suited for his nature. His pants hugged his legs in a deliberately enticing display, those curves on full display for all to see. Full thighs, rounded backside, wide hips. There were powerful muscles buried in that frame, but to those looking only at the surface, all they would see was a fit omega, ripe and ready for the taking. _His_ omega. 

“Venting?” He asked, declaring his presence.

Keith scoffed, offering only a glance over his shoulder. The training module stalled, sensing a second participant. “Did you need something, Shiro?”

“I think it’s time we talk, don’t you?” He tried to approach casually, but as soon as he took the first step forward, Keith had spun, glowering threateningly.

“Talk about _what_?”

“Well, I imagine there’s a lot for us to discuss.”

“Such as, say, you blindly attacking my kin without prompting?” He set an accusing eye on the man, but when Shiro shrank back he sighed, forcing himself calm. He tried again. “Would one of those things to discuss happen to be us?”

Shiro smiled softly, encouraged by the change of tone. “I had hoped so.” 

His demure approach had caught the man off guard. Keith paused, looking him over warily, as if the act of discussing was just a ruse. Slowly, the hostility bled from the air, a twinge of that sweet omega smell piping up. Shiro felt his muscles tense instinctively. His own smell swelled suddenly and the strength of it hit them both fiercely. 

Keith was scowling again in an instant, as if he had been tricked. “I don’t feel like talking right now.”

Damned pheromones; Shiro couldn’t believe he had lost such control over himself in the past years. He couldn’t even control his scent, not even slightly. He was walking around broadcasting his moods and emotions. Being a walking billboard of desperation was not what he needed, especially when he was trying to put on an air of confidence that might attract his mate to him. 

Across the room, Keith continued to stare, eyes narrow and challenging. This was his space and Shiro was intruding. They held gazes for a long moment as Shiro stood helplessly, dying to be close to his mate but wary of his hostility. He could push, use _that_ voice that his omega would bend to, but he had never used the tone outside of dire circumstances. To use it then, to push Keith into sitting and talking against his will, would be a breech of trust. Still, it was an option, and one that grew more attractive each long second they stared. 

An entire minute passed with them standing stiffly, awkwardly refusing to speak. It put Keith off the content mood he had settled into after decimating a dozen droids. He had let his emotions get the better of him during the meeting and he was determined to work out the worst of his demons so he could remain focused during the next one. He could force himself to be aloof. He had been leader of Voltron for three years; managing stress had been a requirement, not an option. Unfortunately, Shiro had thrown him off his balance and now simple tasks like staying focused during training and maintaining professionalism during strategy meetings were epic feats. 

It wasn’t the man’s fault, he reminded himself, tucking his bayard away and moving around his mate.  
More training, more meditation. He would get his head back on straight. He would, for his own sake and for Shiro’s. 

Before he made it to the door, he half turned, about to offer some consolation or cheap excuse for his behavior, when he was grabbed. His words smashed together into a jumbled murmur of surprise as Shiro pulled him tight to his body, his back to the man’s chest. A hand forced itself between his clenched thighs, attempting to pry them apart. Keith swallowed thickly, catching a strangled groan in his throat as Shiro palmed him roughly. Instinctively, he craned his neck to the side, giving his mate easy access to scent him. Shiro wasted no time nosing along his nape, inhaling his sweet smell before nuzzling in, rubbing his own scent into its place. 

“I need you.” Shiro breathed into his ear, voice husky and deep. “I _need_ you.”

The man jerked his hips forward, clothed erection burying sharply into his backside, and Keith’s knees went weak. 

“Shiro!” He reached back, grabbing a fistful of Shiro’s hair and tugging hard. 

A deep growl rumbled against the skin of his neck and Keith shivered, struggling not to mewl when Shiro began nipping at his scent gland, nibbling his way down shoulder and back. The man’s hand was still between his legs, eagerly stroking him through the cloth of his pants. _Open your legs_ , his body demanded, flooding his mind with enough sensual images that he feared he might go into heat right then and there. 

He _should_ open his legs. He should let go and lay down, spread his thighs like the good bitch he wanted to be and pull his alpha in, whispering sultry words of honey to drive his mate to distraction. He could make Shiro forget his fears, could make him forget his crippling self doubt. His mate wanted him; the rest didn’t matter. If Shiro needed proof of his desire, he could happily supply it. He could present himself to his alpha like a proper bitch, on hands and knees, dripping with want, begging for a hard knotting. Just a little prod and he knew Shiro would crack and grab eagerly at his hips, burying himself deep and rutting hard, like alphas did.

The harsh grip of a hand squeezing his chest kicked Keith back into the moment and he cursed, twisting wildly until he broke the man’s hold. Shiro stared at him, shocked and red faced. Sucking in a shuddering breath, Keith smoothed down the front of his pants, attempting to hide his obvious arousal. He had to tear his eyes away from Shiro’s equally obvious erection. 

“I said I don’t want to talk.” He said hurriedly, skirting around Shiro in a wide arc. 

He ran back to his room, fearing that his mate would pursue, intent on finishing what they had started. He wasn’t ready for that yet. There were still so many uncertainties, so many hurdles they needed to work over. If they charged ahead blindly, ramming those hurdles instead of properly confronting them and pushing them aside, there might not be a way to mend their bond. 

Safely back in his room, he leaned against the door heavily, chest heaving, body aching horribly. The submissive part of him, that happy little omega blissed to the stars by the fact that his alpha had returned, screamed that he needed to turn back, run into Shiro’s arms, and give himself over and over until his mate was whole again. Until they were _both_ whole again. Shiro’s disappearance had rent him in two, had left a great wound within him. A chasm. A gaping void that he had tried desperately to fill but that would never be satisfied. Satisfaction was at hand, doors away, but he had to steel himself. 

_You can be whole again._

Keith set his teeth. He refused to be bullied by his own body. He had a hand to satisfy his primal needs. He wasn’t ready to make nice yet. 

A tingling at the base of his neck warned him that Shiro was close, lingering out in the hall, likely dazed and confused. Even through the door, he could smell the sharp tang of the man’s arousal. He wanted his mate so bad, his cock was still hard between his legs. 

_NO_. 

Keith took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to let go of his emotions. They were too important to be brushed aside by something as weak as lust. If Shiro truly loved him, he would be patient. Pushing away from the door, he stumbled to his bed and collapsed. No one said it would be easy. But no one had said it would hurt either, and right then Keith felt agony.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has a lot of feelings that are difficult for everyone to manage, himself most of all. Booz doesn't really help. At least Shiro is starting to piece things together. Or not. It's all just push and pull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for all the support! I'm so happy to see people enjoying this! Thank you so much for the comments; they are my drive to keep going, so please do keep talking to me! I'm excited that you're all taking this adventure with me!
> 
> If you ever want to find me or ask a question, you can find me on tumble (kittypox)!
> 
> Onward!

Chunks of hair were falling around his feet; brown and grey and white---too much white. The number of grey hairs on his head had increased exponentially over the past years. It was to be expected. He should be thankful he hadn't returned with a head of completely white hair. White and gray hair were all the rage now, Lance had told him, but somehow he didn't think he had the ability to pull off the dashing young grey fox look. 

"Almost done." Pidge called over the hum of the razor. 

He grunted, focusing on the feel of cold air washing over his bare nape. He felt naked and exposed. But he needed the change. He needed to recognize the face in the mirror. After all he had been through, he was hesitant of change, but this was a change he needed. Maybe it would even be a change Keith approved of. 

_Doubtful_. 

Shiro frowned, his heart dropping. It killed him every morning when he woke to a cold, empty bed. For three years he had survived on the memories of their happy little nest. When the lions had swooped in and the rebels pulled him to freedom, a thousand joyous thoughts had pummeled his mind. Soon, he would be back with Keith. Soon, he and his mate would be together, rebuilding their lives. He would be safe and happy, holding his lover, waking every morning to his peaceful smile and sweet scent.

But Keith had not been there when the lions landed in the hangar and his friends had rushed in. Arms were holding him, hands patting his back, but he couldn't find the one face he yearned for most amid the sea of people cheering loudly at his return. It took almost an hour before he saw the man. 

They took him to the bridge where they said Keith was directing the assault. As soon as the door slid open he was searching, sniffing and huffing wildly to try and find his mate's scent. A thrill of alarm ran up his spine when he could not immediately search Keith out. Mindless of his panic, Lance guided him forward with a firm hand on his back, calling as they moved. The sea of bodies parted for them and there, at last, was his mate.

It took a moment for him to realize that it was Keith. From the back, he could only see a tail of long charcoal hair and a body he did not recognize. Keith's arms were bare; Shiro had been astounded. Keith hated having skin exposed. Or he had...his skin was hypersensitive, even to the touch of a gentle breeze. His jacket had been an almost permanent fixture on his body as a protective barrier of sorts. 

"Keith!" Lance bellowed. "Turn around!"

The man had turned. Violet eyes found his and Shiro felt as if he were pinned. Something inside of him died as he withered beneath the sharp gaze. Keith stared at him. Neither of them made an immediate move towards the other. It had been years, Shiro knew, but he was still recognizable. There was no reason for Keith to be staring at him with dead, confused eyes. It had been a most unwelcoming stare, as if Keith were wondering what he was doing there.

Awkwardness be damned; he had waited too long, had yearned for too long. He stepped forward and grabbed Keith by the waist, drawing him forward with a surprised yelp, and mashed their lips together in a fierce kiss. Whooping cheers clamored in his ears, urging him to seek deeper. He dug his fingers into the back of Keith's head and pulled him as close as he possibly could, trying to pry his lover's lips apart.

Almost immediately Keith began pushing against him for freedom. All he wanted to do was wrap around his lover and hold him for days, but he knew that soon Keith would start struggling and how embarrassing would that be, to be violently shoved away in front of a mass of people. He ended the kiss, but refused to let go. So many things were wrong, but the warm weight of Keith's body pressed against his still felt right.

"Shiro..." Keith was forcing a smile. The corners of his mouth were tight, his brow furrowed as if annoyed. "Let's...take this someplace more private."

He had nodded, fingers digging into the other man's hips. It was a herculean feat to step back and allow himself to be drawn from the room, held at arms length. Keith turned away from him, barking orders at various people, warning Lance to handle the retreat in his stead. Lance grinned back at them, making an unappreciated lewd gesture with his hands before they disappeared into the hall.

No sooner had the door closed than he was pushing Keith against the wall, crushing him with his weight and nosing into the crook of his neck. That was when he had first smelled the change in his mate's scent. It was off putting, that foreign muskiness, but there was just enough of the sweet Keith smell he remembered to still make it comforting. He nuzzled and bit, desperate for more of the smell. His hands wandered all over Keith's body, memorizing the contours of his changed body. Each stroke of his palm or squeeze of his fingers was met with a short grunt or low groan. Neither of them sounded particularly pleasurable, but he didn't care. He needed and he had. For once, he had what he needed. Finally he had it.

Keith began squirming in his arms, turning his head away from his mouth and pushing at his chest. 

That was not supposed to happen. Keith was supposed to melt into him, holding him protectively close and whispering passionately about how terribly he had been missed. Shiro reeled back, panicked. "Keith? What's wrong?"

Instinct demanded he pull the man close again to comfort him, but Keith placed his palms on his chest and refused to be drawn.

"Shiro, calm down. You're just...confused."

That was a vast understatement, but he couldn't find words to contradict or even agree. Again he tried to pull Keith close, but his mate was not having it. 

"Shiro!" Keith leaped back a step, as if he were facing a potential danger. "Let's just...get you settled in your room."

"In _my_ room?" Keith turned away from him, face pinched in guilt. "You mean _our_ room."

No, Keith had meant his room. Their room was now solely Keith's room and he was not allowed in. That had been the first of several crushing blows dealt to him. He had not even started laying the foundations of his new life, rescued from the hellish galra prison, and already he was shaken and uprooted. His mate refused to allow him to touch, refused to even let him in what was once their safe haven. He was denied the most basic of human comforts, skin to skin contact with the one he loved most. 

Shiro was embarrassed to admit it afterwards, but he had cried. When Keith had shown him to the small, empty room that would house him, he had turned to his mate and broken down in chest-wracking sobs. Shame meant nothing, after years of torture, and he clutched at Keith's legs, burying his face into his thigh and gripping him tightly, as if he might persuade him to stay with his waterworks. He had not found the courage to look at his mate's expression, but he could smell the concern rolling off of Keith as he knelt down and cradled him.

"It's not forever!" Keith hastily reassured him. patting his back awkwardly. "It's just--for awhile. Until we're--until we know each other again."

It was the shittiest excuse Shiro had ever heard, but he respected Keith's wishes nonetheless. For the sake of their relationship, he kept to his lonely room, trying to sniff out any remaining tendrils of Keith's smell from the blankets. 

"There." Pidge's voice jarred him from the memory. "Done."

He forced himself to laugh, running his fingers through the buzzed hair. "Thanks. I feel like a new man."

"Don't mention it. Glad to put this thing to use again."

"I'm amazed it hasn't rusted from lack of use, since I was the only one that used it."

"Well, Keith used it once."

Shiro paused. "He did?"

"Yeah." Pidge handed him the razor. "Just a bit after you disappeared, he cut it like that. Lance was very upset that he couldn't make any more mullet jokes."

"Keith had a buzz cut like mine?" He tried to imagine Keith sporting the same short cut as him and felt his groin clench. 

"He only cut it the once. Are you ready to go?"

He looked over to find the woman at the door, waiting on him. There was another meeting to discuss specifics on how they would handle the rebel confrontation. Shiro tried not to let his worry show; one way or another it would come around to Voltron. Forming Voltron was a staple of their missions. The only problem now being that he had not yet fought alongside his fellow paladins. The Black Lion had accepted his return, but their training attempts to form Voltron up to that point had been abject failures. Time was all he needed to get back in the saddle, Coran claimed, but they were now out of time. Now they needed Voltron. He needed to step up and be the leader that he claimed he was.

\--------------------

Keith was careful not to place his hand too close to Shiro's this time, lest he lose it for the entirety of the meeting. For the sake of concentration, he sat three feet distant from the man, mindful to not even have his feet pointing in Shiro's direction. He would still face some distraction; Shiro's scent was stronger than it had ever been and it settled on his skin like a mist, palpable, but unable to brush the distraction away. It did not help matters that it was not Shiro's usual musk that he smelled, but the heavy lust and frustration that hung over his mate like a cloud, pouring down on the both of them.

When first he had walked in, the man had looked up at him and he had paused, surprised by the sudden lack of hair. 

"It looks good." He had offered stiffly, taking his seat. "That mop of raggy hair didn't suit you."

Shiro hadn't been certain how to take that, but he thanked him regardless. 

Across the way, he caught eyes with Kolivan. The chastising look he received reminded him of parental disapproval. It was certainly easy for everyone else to judge, Keith seethed. After that ridiculous attack Shiro had made on the Blade leader, he was the one who got the earful about not fulfilling his duties to his mate. Lance had made no few subtle suggestions that a good tumble would fix everything, as if it were that simple. Easy to say when they weren't the ones bending over. They weren't the ones emotionally damaged by Shiro's disappearance and abrupt reappearance. For three years he had led Voltron, forcing himself to be the leader they needed while neglecting his own needs. That was what being a leader meant and even though he had never wanted to take on that mantle, he did so his team. If he weren't being too self-congratulatory, he thought that he had done a rather fine job of it too. Their strength had increased tenfold under his guidance. 

But now Shiro had returned. It was time for him to step down and get back to the position he was meant to be in: on his back, in Shiro's bed, with legs open. Even as an integral member of the most important military faction of the universe, as the former leader of it, he was still just the omega, the bitch. No amount of success would change that, it seemed. 

\-------------------

"You're upset."

Shiro caught him outside of the kitchen as they adjourned for lunch. A gentle hand on his arm steered him away from the crowd, towards a quiet alcove where they might speak in private. Shiro was dedicated to getting himself in order and resume his role, Keith would give his mate that. Even with his own life out of sorts, Shiro was still cognizant enough of those around him to know when he, the leader, ought to step in.. 

"I'm not upset." Keith offered coldly, settling his arms over his chest. 

Shiro looked skeptical. "Really? Because if I were to judge just by the smell of you, I'd say you were about to go rogue and kill us all."

"Wouldn't that be an interesting way to end this story."

" _Keith_." He huffed, exasperated. 

Acting the part of leader would not work in this instance, Shiro knew. As compliant as Keith had been to his resuming place as the head of Voltron, he knew that his lover was not confident in his ability to lead. No one was more critical than Keith; it was one of the traits that had made him realize how suited the man was for leadership. Titles alone meant nothing to Keith. The more he pushed and tried to throw his status around, the harder Keith would push back. 

In private, he didn't have to act as leader, he could be concerned lover. "Keith, what's wrong?" He reached out a hand to place it on the man's shoulder, but Keith stepped back from the touch. He ought to have expected that.

"If I wanted to talk, Shiro, I would talk. I don't want to talk."

"You haven't wanted to talk for two months." Shiro snapped, his frustrations getting the better of him.

A tingle of regret ran down Keith's spine. Two months was a considerable amount of time to wait for some sign of affection; he took no joy in forcing Shiro to sleep alone and stay at a distance, but he needed it. 

"Try to understand--"

"Understand _what_?" Shiro growled. "You've given me nothing. Nothing! Not a god damn word! Not a touch! Are you trying to tell me something with this cold shoulder?"

"No!"

"Is this your nonverbal way of telling me you've broken off our bond?"

"No! You're being paranoid!"

Shiro slammed his fist into the wall at the side of Keith's head, fighting against instinct to dominate, fighting the urge to drag Keith into him, whether the man wished to be dragged or not, and mark him violently. His hand trembled, glowing faintly as the technology stirred at his anger.

"I'm being--"

"Hey, you two okay?" Lance leaned his head out of the doorway, regarding them with a knowing look. 

Raised voices were hardly uncommon, with so many people on board now and a number of hotheads at that, but Lance knew the sound of squabbling lovers when he heard it. This argument, though, could escalate even quicker than it was. Having spent years with his teammates, his friends, he knew instinctively how they would react to the other, how pride would get in the way of the healing they needed.

Lance's intrusion gave Keith the exit he needed. Slapping Shiro's arm out of the way, he pushed past and entered into the safety of the kitchen, where argument would not follow.

If looks could kill, Lance knew he would have been burned alive. Shiro was not one to lose his cool and snap, but a man could only take so much. There was a weight on their leader's shoulders that Lance could only imagine. Try as he might, he couldn't think of any way to help bear the brunt of that weight. The closeness of teammates was clearly not what Shiro needed, which left him feeling idle and useless. 

The two men moved around Lance, avoiding eye contact, as if that might erase the memory of what he had seen. Just watching the two of them interact was painful for Lance. It was high school all over again, the love struck boy chasing after the cold girl, except this girl was also a boy. And the former head of Voltron. And not just actively ignoring the other's advances, but vehemently spurning them. It was a soap opera and, if it weren't for the fact that the starring actors were his team mates, Lance thought he might enjoy the drama. As was, it made life as a paladin awkward. 

Despite knowing where the Blade members stood on his relationship, Keith forced himself into the circle of their protection, knowing that Shiro would not pursue. He ignored the judgmental glance that Kolivan settled on him, instead focusing on his meal. Soon enough they would resume their meeting and he would be stuck at Shiro's side, chained like chattel, the prize the true head of Voltron was owed. Any respite, even in the cold company of his kin, was welcome.

"Go to your alpha." Kolivan advised as they moved back to the conference room. "He will sort you out."

Keith made no comment, scowling openly and finding a seat not by Shiro or his kin, but wedged between the solid, safe bulk of Hunk and Pidge. His safe havens were dwindling in number, he thought, catching eyes with Shiro and shaking his head. Providence was forcing him back into place; perhaps he shouldn't fight it. They needed to get sorted out. _He_ needed to get sorted out, but that was a task he needed to complete on his own. Shiro's presence brought a tidal wave of guilt, confusion, and other complicated emotions that made sorting out his thoughts as tedious as finding the universe in a grain of sand. 

He would do better, Keith decided, his mind wandering as the others plotted around him. Rather than throw himself head first into training and forgetting his troubles, he would meet them head on. Meditation would help to calm his thoughts and, with diligent work, he knew he could start putting things back in order. If they could all be patient just a little longer, he knew all would be well. 

Having set himself to the task, he politely declined the after dinner drinks Hunk offered, sneaking a bottle of strong spirits as he went, and shuttered himself in his room. A small voice at the back of his head warned that strengthening his courage with alcohol would do very little for him, save make his thoughts even harder to decipher. He ignored the voice and drank straight from the bottle. Courage was courage, no matter how one procured it. It was going to be a long night of soul-searching, but he had the power of a large bottle of spirits to get him through it.

\------------------------------

The lights had dimmed hours ago, but still Shiro wandered, restless, angry, and worried. He was exhausted, truth told, but the root of the problem was still avoiding him. If he could just get _something_ out of Keith, he might be able calm down and get some rest. Each time he pressed and begged for a word, all he received was a request to be patient. Karma was laughing at him; that's what he got for constantly reminding Keith that patience yielded focus. In this instance, patience was yielding madness. His impatience was turning to aggression, which put them all in jeopardy. 

It was time for an answer, Shiro decided. For his sake and the sake of everyone on board the ship. They could not continue to be the point of contention among the team. As a part of the problem, it was his duty to sort it out and with that righteous belief in mind, he found himself standing outside of Keith's room. Technically, he thought sourly, it was their room, Keith had just re-appropriated it as his own and refused to allow his mate in. 

The twang of annoyance brought on by that thought gave him the nerve to pound his fist on the door and demand an audience. There was a lengthy pause and he thought that Keith might be ignoring him when the door slid open. He took a deep breath, prepared to make his demands, but paused at the heavy smell of alcohol.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked, incredulous.

Keith hummed, leaning heavily against the door frame. His eyes were dark and distant, as if he weren't even there.

"Keith...are you _drunk_?"

The younger man shrugged casually. "Maybe. Probably. Definitely. Why are you here, Shiro?" There was a slight slur to his speech as he drawled his lover's name.

Shiro was at a loss. He had expected many things to happen, but stumbling upon a drunken Keith had not been one of the scenarios he had planned for. They stared at one another for a moment. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, Shiro thought. Keith was calm and compliant; they could talk. Of course, the state of the man's mind made him question whether he could trust anything Keith would say.

He cleared his throat, trying to pretend that he didn't notice how drunk Keith was. "We need to speak."

"We are speaking." Keith murmured, putting his back to the frame and stretching his arms above his head.

A new smell rose, overpowering the alcohol. Instinctively, Shiro stepped closer. He expected a violent reaction, to be pushed back or for Keith to jump away. But he didn't. Keith stood still, regarding him blandly through tired eyes. 

"Are you---you smell good." He groaned without thinking, his resolve crumbling. He wanted so badly to grab his mate and bury his face in his neck where the scent was strongest. If Keith were generous, maybe even rut against his leg. 

Keith hummed, turning his head to the side and exposing his neck. That was an offer if ever Shiro had seen one and he eagerly took it, grabbing the man by the waist and burrowing in. 

"Just take it." Keith panted into his ear, digging his nails into Shiro's back. "Just take what you need, alpha."

Another smell filled his nose. Shiro opened his eyes, gut turning uneasily. Something was wrong. He was loath to move away, but he forced himself back a step, hands lingering on Keith's waist. There was nothing to read on the man's blank face, but he didn't need an expression to read.

"Keith, why are you sad?" All this time he had smelled and seen his mate's anger, but never his sadness. Had it always been there, drowned by the facade of rage? The world shifted and Shiro felt out of place. All of his own righteous anger seemed out of place now. In its place rose the earnest desire to comfort.

Keith refused to look him in the eyes, finding instead a space on the wall behind his head to fixate upon. There was nothing in his eyes, nothing to be read in the lines of his face, but Shiro knew his mate. Years apart, but he could still read the subtle movements and varying meanings of the stone masks Keith wore. He pulled his hands from the man's waist, forcing himself back another step. He didn't need to know Keith's nuances to know what his expression meant; he had seen it everyday in the mirror for years: surrender, hopelessness. 

He loved Keith, no matter how horribly the man made his heart ache and fanned the flames of his fury. Years of torture had passed for his lover as well. It was a different sort of pain that had not yet been shared with him. Keith remained standing stiffly in the door, head canted, neck exposed. The offer still stood, but Shiro knew he could not take it. It was not an offer given of full will. Whatever demons Keith had riding his back had broken him down and giving in appeared to be a better solution than fighting on.

He could not be the one to break Keith. As much as he wished to push into those arms again and make himself whole, he knew that that would be a betrayal. 

Shiro took a deep breath, acutely aware now of the stench of sadness rolling off of his mate. "Go get some sleep, Keith. We can talk tomorrow."

"I'm offering now." Keith laughed, although he didn't know why. "I might not want to talk tomorrow."

In all likelihood, he wouldn't, Shiro knew. Still, it was the right decision to make.  
"I'll take the risk." He hesitated. "Can I--I want to kiss you. May I?"

He was being slammed with smells that evening; the sadness he had been drenched in turned suddenly to fear. _Why would Keith fear me_? Shiro couldn't fathom it. When had Keith ever feared him? When had he ever given Keith a reason to fear him? Maybe it wasn't about him, Shiro reasoned. If his suspicions about prince Lotor were correct, he might be nothing more than a reminder of some past trauma. 

_No more pushing_. 

"Good night, Keith."

Finally, _finally_ , Keith felt a stirring of something within his heart. The love he bore for his mate had never left, but it was sometimes difficult to find, buried as it was in layers of distrust and resentment. It had been easier to simply ignore his feelings and plunge on rather than confront them. Even with Shiro nagging and dogging his heels, he could pretend that none of it mattered, that he still had time.

Time had caught up though. Without meaning to, Shiro had caused the floodgates to open and every deep rooted, dark feeling he had had rushed to the surface. And, in typical wonderful Shiro fashion, he had swept away the darkness to reveal the shining love still lurking in his heart. Beneath the miasma of negativity, there was still love. It swelled in Keith's heart so abruptly he stumbled over himself to follow the man down the hall. 

He took a step forward, losing his balance as his legs tangled together. Pain erupted at the side of his head as he collided with the door as it closed. Keith cursed at himself, pressing his palms to his temples in an effort to stop the throbbing. 

_That's what you get_ , his mind whispered venomously. For one moment he and Shiro had been connected, brain waves synced. And he had blown it. He was too drunk to walk down the hall and catch his alpha, to drag Shiro into his arms and allow as much as he felt comfortable with. He would not have that same courage the next morning. He was pitiful. 

\------------

The following morning, Keith was sober enough to realize that it was better that the encounter had transpired as it had. Waking up in Shiro's bed would have been a disaster. A thousand tragic what-ifs played through his head as he showered and prepared for the day. No matter what had happened or how it happened, he could only see their encounter ending badly. Of course, he was always the one that made it bad in his visions. 

When he appeared on the bridge, at least an hour later than the rest of his team, he studiously avoided eye contact with Shiro. The man would seek him out soon enough and confront him, so he needn't worry about that right then.

"Are we nearing the planet?" He asked. 

Pidge pulled up a visual of their destination. "We should arrive in few hours; the lions could make it sooner, if we wanted to ride out and begin the mission. Reports say the rebel attacks are minimal today, so we might just have an easy go about it."

"That's good news, seeing as we can't form Voltron yet."

There was a collective cringe among the other paladins as they looked from him to Shiro. 

"We'll manage just fine." Shiro assured them, his smile forced and tight.

"Even so, I would feel more comfortable if we had a backup plan."

Shiro felt the blood rise to his face. He should not be so agitated by a challenge--but he was. Perhaps the fact that it was his distant mate who was the challenger had something to do with the irrational anger he felt. "Do you have any suggestions to make? I'm open to--"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. If, in the event we need to form Voltron and we can't, we'll bring the lions back to the ship and dump you. I'll take over Black and Allura will take over Red. We've done the drill often enough that we shouldn't lose too much time in the transfer process."

It was difficult to maintain his pleasant facade. "Well." Shiro ground out. "That sounds sensible, though I don't like the idea of being _dumped_."

Keith laughed bitterly, finally looking at the man. "No one likes being dumped and left behind."

"Are you--"

"Don't turn this into an alpha dominance thing, Shiro. We don't have time for that."

The tension in the air spiked. It was not unusual for there to be a bit of unpleasantness between the two lovers, but their spats were usually short and tame. This could be a verbal bloodbath, Pidge realized, trying to interject into the argument. They trampled her voice, ignoring her and the others completely as Shiro strode across the room to loom over Keith. 

"I am the head of Voltron and the leader of this team." He stated firmly. "You need to respect that. You need to respect me and my decisions."

Perhaps it was the hangover making him more fractious than normal, but Keith was not willing to be bullied into submission. Not over the practicality of having a plan B, and not by an alpha with a severely injured ego. 

" _Earn_ my respect." He ground out, turning on his heel and heading for the hangars. "Suit up!

Hunk rose from his seat, prepared to follow, then checked himself. He glanced to Shiro who stood frozen in the center of the room. The man's face was twisted in shock and anger. No one, so far as Hunk could recall, had ever spoken to Shiro in that tone. The fact that it was Keith of all people snapping back put them all on edge. 

"So..." Pidge cleared her throat, daring to draw attention to herself. "Should we...?"

Shiro inhaled a deep breath through his nose. Patience yields focus. They could resolve the dispute later. The mission came first. "Alright, guys, let's go. Suit up."

He received a collective nod of affirmation before the other three paladins jumped to their feet and made their way to their respective lions. It felt right, Shiro asserted to himself as he headed for Black. He could still lead. His team still followed him. No matter what anyone thought, he was the undisputed head of Voltron. He just had to make sure Keith knew and accepted that as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to talk, Keith decides. It does not go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! OMG, thank you so much for all your great comments! (seriously, I am a review whore--I love reading them and feeling my drive ignite). Your reactions to everything going on have been so fun to read--especially knowing where this is going. It's interesting to see so many varied view points. 
> 
> Thanks so much! Please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you're thinking! Drop me a line or any questions on tumblr if you'd like!

The cat and mouse game was beginning to grate on Shiro's nerves. He had come to terms with the fact that he had to wait for Keith to be ready to discuss the current status of their relationship, but when it came to matters of the team and ship, he needed to be able to find the man at all times. If they couldn't put aside their petty squabbles for something as important as that, then they were in worse shape than he thought. It was a big ship, he soothed himself; Keith could be anywhere and not actively avoiding him. He tended to doubt that though.

The usual hiding spots had turned up nothing, so he began searching out the members of the team, hoping that Keith was being social. Pidge and Hunk had not seen him since dinner, nor had Allura or Coran. Which brought him to Lance, lounging lazily in the sauna. The heat struck him a soon as he opened the door, an oppressive weight that weighed him down and strangled his lungs.

"My god, how do you stand it in here?" He asked, stepping further in. He glanced about, and, seeing that Lance was alone, began plotting out his next course. 

Lance sat up on his elbows, grinning. "This is nothing. I've got it on low heat. Come to sweat it out for a bit?"

"Hardly. I'll sweat it out in the training room. I'm looking for Keith."

"Expected."

"Have you seen him?"

Lance stalled, eyes darting to the corner of the room. "Well, uh, yeah, I've seen him."

" _Where_?"

"Here."

Shiro felt a vein at his temple throb. "Lance. Real answers."

The man put up his hands in surrender. "I'm being honest, man. The last time I saw Keith, he was in here. He wanted to talk."

It shouldn't have hurt hearing that, but it did. It seemed that Keith would talk to anyone but him. 

"What did he want to talk about?" Shiro asked softly. He held a ridiculous hope that it had been about them, but Lance's apologetic look told him otherwise.

"He wanted my opinion on a plan he was making. He's adamant about getting information from the rebels. They're a decent source of intelligence, you know. We skimmed a lot from them. That's how we got information on---" he hesitated suddenly, "well, on everything really."

That was good to know, but Shiro hesitated to ask specifics on how they procured information. Ideals had changed since he had led. Whether that was from three long years of fighting or a drastic course of leadership under Keith's command, he wasn't certain. Acts of brutal interrogation no longer seemed completely out of the question. They could come back to it later. First thing was first.

"If you see Keith, tell him I want to talk to him. No, tell him I _need_ to talk to him. And if he kicks up a fuss about it, tell him it's about the safety of the team and it's an order."

Lance smiled hesitantly. "I might leave that last part out; he doesn't take too well to being ordered. Knowing that it's about the team will be enough."

Shiro nodded once, trusting Lance to keep his word. He would try the Blade next. With a nod, he reached for the door, trying to keep his disappointment from his face. 

Lance waited until the door had closed and he could no longer hear the clap of Shiro's boots against the tiled floor before knocking on the bench three times. 

"It's safe to come out now."

A loud groan rumbled from beneath the bench before the slatted side was thrown across the floor. Lance leaned over the edge, watching as Keith carefully unfurled himself and slid free. He was mildly impressed with the contortions the other man had forced himself into just to cram into the tiny spot. 

"Wouldn't it be easier to just talk to Shiro? That doesn't look to be a very comfortable hiding spot."

"It's not." Keith groaned, sitting up and craning his neck left and right until it cracked. 

"I can't believe that actually worked. Why couldn't he smell you? I thought that was part of your bond thing; you can smell each other from miles away and call each other with your stank."

He glared at Lance halfheartedly. "It is not 'stank' and I'm not sure why Shiro can't smell anymore. I just know that his sense of smell was damaged while he was gone; he has to be on top of me now to smell me. In here, with all of your lotion and product smells, he would never be able to sense me." It was the ideal hiding space.

Lance shook his head. "I don't get why you're putting this off."

"Yes, you do." Keith shot sourly. "You more than anyone knows exactly why I'm hesitating to speak to him."

That was true, Lance conceded. He knew far more than he let on, but it was not his place to be babbling to Shiro. Not when his knowledge could cause Keith a world of trouble. "You know he would understand. And even if he was mad, he would forgive you. These aren't usual circumstances. A lot of things happened that were unexpected. We all made due with what we had. Shiro knows--"

Keith lifted a hand to silence him. He didn't need Lance to expound about his mate's accolades. If ever there was one worthy of being a leader it was Shiro, and his alpha status had nothing to do with that merit. Even if Shiro was the poster boy for reason and understanding, there were limits to such things. Very likely, Keith thought, he had found those limits. Unintentionally, yes, but an act of betrayal was still an act of betrayal. 

"I will talk to him." He sighed, leaning his head against the bench. "If not today, then tomorrow. If only to get it over with."

Shiro was right; two months was too long. Concealing the truth and playing pretend was not doing him any good. If anything, it made his life even more stressful, always having to weave around his mate or quite literally hide from him. He was starting to understand very clearly how confused Shiro was. What he felt in distress, Shiro felt the same amount. 

A hand dropped onto his shoulder and Keith flinched. Glancing over his shoulder, he found his friend staring at him with an earnest expression.

"It will be okay." Lance's voice shook with vehemence.

Keith forced a smile; he was not so confident. For him, the world was on the precipice of ending. At least he had one friend to walk with him through the hell he had created for himself. And hopefully Lance would still be there at the end of it all, if he hadn't unwittingly pitted himself against Shiro. He prayed that it would not come down to picking sides. Were that the case, he would be utterly alone, with no friends or allies to speak of. 

\--------------------

He had decided. If the world was going to collapse all around him, then he might as well get it over with. Keith had hoped that he might be able to find some solution to preserve a shred of his dignity, but that did not seem to be an option, unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life keeping Shiro at bay and playing coy. The truth would come out, regardless. It always did. At least he could control how it came out. That could be on his terms.

Oddly enough, when he actually wanted to find Shiro, he couldn't. It took three circuits of the castle before they chanced upon one another. He turned a bend and collided with the man's chest, a great splash of liquid striking him in the face as he tumbled backwards, into the wall.

"Keith!" Immediately, Shiro reached to set him on his feet.

The joy that leaped into the man's eyes made Keith cringe. "We need to talk."

Joy turned to confusion. "We--do. I was looking for you earlier."

"I know." He glanced down the hall, noting that several of the Blade members were loitering, coming from a meeting of their faction. "Let's take this someplace private. Please."

Something was amiss; Shiro saw it immediately in the way Keith looked about nervously and in the way he shifted from foot to foot, as if he could not stand still. He supposed there was no need to ask what the trouble was if they were going to talk. He waited as Keith wiped the liquid from his face and wrung out the front of his shirt as best he could.

"Sorry about that."

The younger man grunted. It was the least of his worries. He could live with a damp shirt. He glanced at Shiro, stomach churning anxiously when the man shot him a hopeful smile. He considered how he might broach the subject as they walked, headed for a secluded observation room. If there were windows to look from, he wouldn't feel entirely trapped. The easiest solution to his dilemma would be to just lay it out, frank and honest. There would be no easing Shiro into what he had to say. Once he saw the man's reaction, he could gauge where to go from there, if an explanation was needed or if it would be wasted breath. 

The notion of being alone with an angry alpha, even if it were his soft spoken, gentle Shiro, put his nerves on edge. He had learned that an alpha, even a gentle one, was still an alpha. He had learned a great deal about alphas over the past years. More than he truly wished to know.

At his side, Shiro tried to discreetly examine his face. There wasn't a time when Keith wasn't frowning, scowling, or looking pensive, so it was difficult to judge his mood. The nervous twitches hinted at concern. Shiro felt his spirits lift suddenly. If they were talking about the last mission--one he had severely failed--Keith would be angry, if not a bit smug that his fail-safe plan had been needed. Concern likely meant they would finally speak about their current circumstances. 

A ridiculous smile lit up his face as he reached for Keith's hand. It would not be easy, but they would muster through it together. A soft touch would convey the strength of their bond. It was as strong as it ever was; he needed his mate to know that. His fingers had just brushed the underside of Keith's palm when a blur of orange and blue flashed before their eyes, solidifying before them and blocking their path. 

"There you two are! I've been looking for you!" Coran greeted them cheerfully, but beneath the veneer of a shining smile was a look of fierce determination. 

Shiro felt his hackles raise at the intrusion. "Coran, Keith and I were just about to have a private discussion and get some things sorted out."

"That's good, because the two of you need to get things figured out if you wish to be able to form Voltron. I don't need to remind you of how essential that is. I was just about to propose some exercises to help you along the way."

Some dark deity was mocking him, Shiro felt certain. Every time an opportunity to sooth his mate arose, some variable or random occurrence thwarted him. He was tempted to push Coran to the side and steer Keith onward, but the Altean had already placed an arm around each of their shoulders and was leading the way.

Keith glanced at him, awaiting his reaction.

"It might be good for us." Shiro sighed, defeated. "We can catch up afterwards."

Typical, Keith thought. He had just screwed up enough courage to track his alpha and sit him down for the talk when this fell into his lap. It wasn't a complete disappointment; Coran's arm was a warm weight of security, keeping him anchored in the now. There would be a third party minding his back, monitoring the situation. If matters grew out of hand, Coran would stop them. Instinctively, he leaned closer into the man's half embrace, seeking comfort. 

A second later the familiar tang of jealousy reached his nose. He glanced over just as Shiro turned his head, schooling his face into a mask of indifference. A biting remark came to Keith's tongue, but he swallowed it. Belittling the alpha in front of their friends was not proper etiquette--even if Shiro deserved it from time to time. It was alarming how possessive Shiro had become in his absence; anyone that he so much as looked at was competition in his mate's eyes. Keith had been exhausted within the first week, trying to find ways to stay close to his friends and kin without overstepping bounds and upsetting Shiro. When there appeared to be no way to keep the man satisfied, he gave up. 

Coran pat his back, as if sensing the thread of his thoughts. "Come on now, in here. Time for some bonding exercises."

\-------------------------------

As far as reforging bonds after years of no contact and months of angry disputes went...they did terribly. The only exercise they did well on was watching each other's back as a swarm of drones attacked. It was military, it was mission, it was the one thing they still recognized as a shared interest. In that sense, they were vested in each other's safety and success. Beyond that, they had failed over and over and over again. It was no wonder the team couldn't form Voltron.

"Time to bring out the big guns." Coran announced, handing each of them a headset.

Keith groaned, recognizing the things from their very first attempts at bonding and forming Voltron. He most certainly did not want Shiro rooting around in his head and, judging by the man's equally hesitant look, Shiro had similar feelings. 

"Is this necessary?" Keith asked, wary of even putting the thing on.

"Of course it is." Coran replied cheerfully. "Just one more exercise and then you can rest. You all did so well with this one before; I have no doubt that you'll breeze through it!"

That was an optimistic assumption, but Keith said nothing against it. He glanced at Shiro quickly before adjusting his ponytail and slipping the headpiece on. His head must have grown; he didn't remember the edges digging into his temple so tightly. It was a small enough distraction to overlook. Almost immediately he could feel a psychic channel opening and a tendril of Shiro's consciousness reach out. Instinctively, he shied away, but Shiro was persistent. Every way his mind darted, the man followed.

Across from him, Shiro was frowning, restraining himself from growling. "Keith. This isn't going to work if you keep avoiding me. The purpose of this exercise is to be open with one another."

"Alright, alright."

Taking a deep breath, he stilled his mind, feeling Shiro circle him, testing the waters, before rushing in and wrapping around him. It was like a strangle hold; if Shiro couldn't have him physically, then he would cling to the mental connection that had been offered. Keith gasped, a tidal wave of images flooding his mind: the garrison, their first kiss, the Galra battle arena, his first heat, their nest, bent over the side of the bed, Shiro in a rut--

"Christ, Shiro, get your mind out of the gutter!" He glared at the man. "Coran is here!"

Shiro flushed red, eyes darting to the Altean observing them from afar. "S-sorry about that. Coran?"

How embarrassing, Keith bemoaned silently. That was far more of their bodies and private lives than Coran ever needed to see or know about. Those images would likely be burned into the man's mind forever. _He_ would not soon forget them, Keith knew that for certain.

A cough rang over the intercom. "Alright, let's concentrate on Voltron. Think about your lions and the bond you have with them."

Keith sent a final withering glare to his mate, daring him to allow his mind to wander again, before closing his eyes and concentrating on the task at hand. Shiro tried to smile, though it looked more like a cringe. At least he had the good sense to be embarrassed, Keith thought. 

After several calming breaths, their mental connection smoothed. Shiro's unrelenting grip loosened and Keith was able to think again. Exhaling through his nose, he drew upon his bond with his lion and--

The intercom crackled again. "Wrong lion, Keith."

He opened his eyes. In front of them sat two holograms of the black lion. They both stared, momentarily stunned. Embarrassment slowly trickled in and Keith felt his face heat. His black lion fizzled out of existence. He could feel the weight of Shiro's gaze on him, but refused to meet his eyes. 

"Try again!" Coran encouraged. 

Bless that man for his unending wellspring of optimism; he was the only reason Keith hadn't given in hours before. 

"Take a deep breath." Shiro said softly. "You were with Black for three years; it's understandable."

"Yes, _alpha_."

"No squabbling!" Coran cheered. "Keep going!"

He could do this, Keith told himself. Think of the red lion. Think of how happy she had been to have him return as her pilot. The lion had purred mightily when he stepped up to her, welcoming her true paladin with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. It had felt like coming home, being wrapped in safe, warm arms. He wondered if Shiro had a similar experience with Black, after his long awaited return. The great lion _had_ protected him from Zarkon while battling on the astral plain; there was obviously some bond of considerable strength between them. 

Without meaning to, he reached out to the man, whispering the question in his mind.

It had been a mistake. 

From the void, something latched onto him, prying into his mind and worming its way deep into the heart of his thoughts. 

Keith gasped, a shooting pain striking through his head. "Shiro, stop!"

"I'm not----that's _you_!" Shiro cried, reeling backwards. There was a similar pain burrowing in his temples, digging into his thoughts and pushing them aside, replacing them with foreign visions. 

He saw a child crouched in the floor, scrubbing at his eyes. At a second glance, he realized that it was Keith, small and young, sporting scrapped knees and a layer of dust earned from a day of rough play. The sun was golden and through an open door he saw the familiar dunes of desert. It seemed a warm, happy memory, until the pitiful wailing began echoing in his head. 

A man shifted into view, scooping Keith up and heading out the door. That was not his father, Shiro realized with a start. Whoever held onto Keith was younger, thinner, with neatly trimmed hair and a fine suit. He looked around frantically, grasping for meaning, and found another man standing stiffly in the corner of the room. _That_ was the man he recognized as Keith's father. The rough looking man stood unmoving in the corner and stared, face blank, if not somewhat remorseful.   
A tiny hand reached out for him. 

_Daddy!_

"Keith!" Coran's voice broke through the vision. "You have to control yourself! Find your focus!"

The image disappeared. Blackness crashed in, but did not stay long. The lighting changed. There were no lights, but in the darkness he could see shapes moving. A hand raised and fell. The sound of flesh on flesh reverberated in the room and down Shiro's spine. The second to last foster home. He remembered the few stories that Keith had shared, stiltedly and with ragged breath, about the worst homes he had been taken into.

The room brightened and shifted into a new scene. This one was a warm memory: the professor. Shiro couldn't recall the name; he hadn't had him as a teacher, but he recalled that was how Keith had gotten into the garrison. 

He had thought that that would be the family. Keith felt his chest heave, reliving it all again. After years of being tossed from one foster home to the next, enduring one form of abuse after the other, finally someone had looked at him. Soft eyes had turned his way and, despite his ragged appearance and perpetual scowl, said 'we want him'. Someone had actually wanted him, the scraggly teenager with an attitude problem. 

For days after he had been taken from the orphanage he had hid in his room---his room! He had almost died at that; no more sharing with seven other foster kids---or ducked behind furniture when people passed. It was a common reaction to trauma, he recalled a social worker whispering to his new parents. All the kids in the system had problems; it was a sad truth that many well-meaning foster homes discovered. If it became too much, they were told they could just return him. His foster parents hadn't cared though. When he shied away, his new mother would sit patiently on the ground, waiting for him. 

They had been an old couple, too old for children of their own or a toddler running wild in their house, but a young teenager would do well for them. Too many older children were ignored, his foster mother had said soothingly, crouching in front of the sofa he hid behind with a plate of food offered. They were happy to have him. When they moved into the garrison faculty housing, it had felt like life had restarted for him. Everything was new and gleaming with promise. A touch was not always cold and harsh, sometime it was warm and soothing. For the first time in his life, he had learned compassion. 

But it was not meant to be. Within a month of the move his foster mother was ill. Three months later and she was dead. She had not been his for long, but it was long enough for Keith. Blood or no, she had been his mother. She had been the only woman to ever show him love. Tears were streaming down his face, watching his memories unfold. 

_"You'll be fine."_ His foster father promised with a watery smile. _"Your tuition and housing are taken care of. You'll only have to go back to the orphanage during summer break. No tears now. You'll be amazing."_

_"I want to go with you!"_

It was too expensive to take care of a growing boy, with his foster father's ever growing medical needs. Or so the excuse went. The man's teaching contract hadn't been renewed and with no job and no pension, it would just be impossible to care for him. Keith had nodded, pretending he understood. A boy as capable as him always landed on his feet. His foster father had gotten him into the most prestigious flight school in the country. It was a gift he could not overlook. If he took nothing else from them, he took their kindness and the opportunity to become the best pilot the garrison had ever seen. 

...Still. He would have traded it all in a second to join his foster father. Wherever it was the man was going, he would have blindly followed. If he had had to sleep on the floor of a single bedroom apartment, he would have. If they had to share their meals and pretend they weren't hungry so the other could eat more, he would have. For a scrap of love, he would have crawled through coals. But he hadn't been wanted. The door closed behind his foster father and he was alone.

The waters of memory rippled, a new scene forming.

Shiro feared the coming vision. He knew what it would be; he still dreamed of it from time to time, turning over the event that had changed the course of his life. He was aware of the sound of Keith's sobs in the distance, overcome by the raw emotion the vivid hallucinations were bringing forth. They were in too deep. He didn't want to see and he clawed desperately at the ether for freedom.

_"It's only for a year."_ He heard his own voice say, pleasant yet regretful.

"Oh god." Keith caught his breath on a sob. Not this. He did not want to relive this. 

_"You promise you're coming back?"_

Young Shiro had laughed. _"Where else would I go? I promise I'll come back to you."_

Shiro cringed. Of course that would be a memory Keith held close to his heart in the worst of ways. "Keith, I'm sorry!"

Nothing could have been worse than that, Shiro was sure, until he found himself staring at...himself. Keith--Keith from three years ago--was tugging earnestly at his arm, screaming at him. This was his own worst memory; he could see why it was for Keith as well. Every day some unwanted memory of the event thrust into the forefront of his mind, reminding him of his foolishness, of his ignorance, of his betrayal. His mate had clung to him, desperate to keep him, demanding that he see reason and know when they had lost. 

Shiro had refused to let himself be beat. It was too dangerous for Keith to come, he remembered saying that, but he would be fine dealing with the matter on his own. With nothing but his alpha confidence to guide him, he had abandoned Keith and flung himself headfirst into the melee. 

He heard Keith screaming for him, begging for him to stop, but he did not know which man he heard, the past or the present. A rash of visions swam before his eyes, words ringing loudly in his ears.

_I'm sorry, but you're just not able---infertile---promise that you will stay---I love you so much, no matter---_

"Stop! Stop it!" 

That was his Keith, Shiro knew, if only from the panic in his voice. 

"Keith, you have to control it!"

Either Keith could not hear him or could not comprehend him; the dreamscape buzzed around him, voices and words lost to the whirlwind.

_I'm sorry, but he is lost to us---_

"Keith! Focus!"

_You belong to me now._

Darkness plunged in again, drowning them. Shiro's head spun from the sudden silence and emptiness. From the weak connection he still had with Keith, he could feel the man's mind tremble, trying manically to piece itself whole. 

"Keith?" he called softly.

_Mine._

The prince sprung to life with a vivid flash of pain, his eyes looming menacingly in the otherwise empty darkness. Shiro's blood ran cold, snared in the net of that gaze. He floundered, struggling to breathe. Vicious laughter rang in his head and those eyes followed every earnest move he made to free himself. He was prey in those eyes, to be hunted, tormented, and destroyed. 

_Mine!_

The connection broke, the visions falling away to reveal the real world. Shiro fell backwards, clutching his chest as he fought to pull air into his lugs. He could still feel Lotor's gaze lingering on him, insidious and disgusting. There had been no easily discernible surroundings for him to grasp onto, nothing to hint at a clear memory, but he had felt enough for him to know what horrid memory he had born witness to.

Keith crashed to the floor, screaming mindlessly, clawing wildly at the air. He was in the grips of a blind panic. When hands reached for him, all he saw were the hands of enemies, of the people who had cut him the deepest. Amidst his own screams, he thought he could hear Shiro, but it was probably another hallucination. 

It was not Shiro, his mind hissed. Shiro was not there for him. Shiro had abandoned him. Like everyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm going hunting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my friends! I'm so glad to see everyone enjoying this story! I'm actually having a blast writing it (despite all the angst lol). Love hearing what you guys are thinking! Some of you are really picking up on the subtle things.
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> We're going to have some fun now! Enjoy!

There was no sound in the room and that put Shiro on edge. Silence had become an enemy during his first dark days of imprisonment by the galra. It should have been a welcoming void; silence meant the day was done, meant his time in the arena was up. In truth, silence meant time to reflect, time to dwell on the people he had killed and the many, many mistakes he had made up to that point. 

Rescue had not made the silence any better. Knowing that he no longer had to listen for the thump of sentry feet did not make him any less paranoid. Still he strained his ears for the sounds of men coming to take him back to the arena, to the experimental labs, to the interrogation chambers. The silence of space was a thousand times worse than that of his cell. If he held his breath, he could hear _nothing_. There were times he almost wondered if anything existed.

In the first days aboard the ship, having seen that he did not rest well, Allura had gifted him with a noise machine. To his amazement, the device served its purpose well. The white noise of the machine joined the white noise of his mind in a tiring, wonderful cacophony. He slept like a stone.

The machine was gone now. Perhaps it had been tucked out of sight, seeing as Keith had never needed it. Keith was a light sleeper, but he always managed to slip off easily. Day light, noise, silence--nothing phased him. He envied the man that talent. The only time Shiro could recall sleeping without the noise machine in the last 15 years was when he had his mate in his arms. If he had Keith in his bed, he could stomach the silence. The soft inhale and exhale of his mate's shallow breath was enough. It was proof that the universe did exist and that it wasn't all coming together to pull him back to hell. He was safe in their nest, just as Keith was now. Safe. 

Thankfully, Keith's panicked panting had let up some time ago, but his heart rate was still worryingly high. The man had passed out before he or Coran could properly calm him. Shiro did not know what his mate saw behind his closed eyes. Perhaps more memories. He prayed not. 

"Are you sure the sedative is working?" He asked, turning to Coran who stood by the bedside, tapping softly at a tablet.

The Altean regarded him with a pitying expression. "It's done as much as it can. There's very little to do against dreams, unfortunately."

Shiro huffed, turning back to Keith and leaning close. All that advanced technology and medicine, but they hadn't found a way to stop dreams? He wasn't sure he believed that. "Can I do anything?"

"Let him rest, Shiro. That was an unexpected---" He struggled to find a word.

"Attack." Shiro supplied, calling it what it was.

Coran nodded demurely. "He's stable for now. I'm going to go prepare a few things for when he wakes. I'll come back and check on him in an hour."

He would be there. As long as Keith needed him, he would be there. 

"How long before he wakes, do you think?" Shiro sighed. "After that--event, I think I'm the last person he wants to see right now." 

"Given the strength of the sedative? Another three hours."

Shiro nodded. Loath as he was to leave his mate's side, he would force himself to before Keith woke. He was not proud to have featured so prominently in the parade of worst days of Keith's life. So many stupid things he had done had left glaring scars on his mate's heart and mind. Wounding himself he could overlook, but to hurt his mate so gravely was unforgivable. 

He thought back to the day he had been told that he would be joining Professor Holt on the Kerberos mission as his pilot. The news had left him grinning ear to ear all day. His heart was thundering anxiously and he could barely focus on his work. Every free second he had was spent calling his family and friends to give them the good news. 

There was one person he had hesitated to tell though. Keith did not react well to surprises. After the horror stories of the foster system, Shiro understood. Which was why his joy had been tempered to worry when he saw Keith waiting for him after classes. Upon seeing him, the boy had flashed him a happy smile and Shiro felt his heart melt. He had not deserved his mate, even back then. 

"You look happy." Keith remarked as they wove their way to his dorm room.

Shiro's smile had leaped back to place. "I got some good news today. I want to tell you."

"So tell me."

"Not here. Once we're alone." He had said it, sounding coy, as if he wished it to be an intimate moment. In truth, he just wanted them to be unobserved, lest Keith start growing hysterical. 

The news was met with a blank stare from Keith. He stared at Shiro as he explained what the mission entailed and how long he would be gone. The more he spoke, the more worried Shiro became. He wasn't getting any reaction. No happiness, sadness, not even anger. 

"Keith? Baby? Are you there?"

A mask jumped into place; Keith smiled at him. "I'm happy for you."

The memory of that broken, twisted smile still made Shiro cringe. He had fallen over himself to make a hundred promises to return swiftly, to pick up where they left off once he returned, to contact him as often as he could when gone. Keith smiled on, nodding as if he truly believed the words Shiro was feeding him. 

The first betrayal, Shiro thought to himself. His accepting the role on the Kerberos mission had been his first act of abandonment. No few of his alpha friends had been shocked, confused as to what this meant in regards to Keith. He had bristled dangerously when several had asked if that meant Keith was now open fodder, free for them to take a chance on. 

"Stupid." He muttered to himself. Even a young alpha should have known better than that. 

He wondered, as he had wondered a million times since, if he had made a mistake claiming Keith before he left for the mission. His own selfishness had demanded that he bond fully with his mate so that no one else could try and take him. Keith would have mourned him, but he could have moved on, taken a mate, and found fulfillment in an alpha who wouldn't run off at the drop of a hat. Maybe Keith could have been happy. There certainly hadn't been a shortage of alphas sniffing around him in interest.

"Keith?" He leaned close to whisper against the man's ear. "I--" 

What could he say? An apology was long overdue and worthless by that point. He could make another promise, but that would have been equally as worthless. He had a bad habit of breaking his promises to Keith, incidentally or not. 

"I love you." he offered lamely. 

There was a soft grunt in response and Shiro reeled backwards, fearing he had woken the man. He waited a moment, but Keith did not stir; his breath was even and undisturbed. Shiro leaned closer once more, nuzzling into the soft hair fanning over the pillow. Initially, he hadn't been sure he liked his mate with long hair, but it had quickly grown on him. The tail of hair was cute and he longed to tug on it playfully. Of course, at the moment, he risked life and limb should he give into the temptation. But someday--hopefully soon--he would be able to wrap his hand in the silky hair and just pull. 

He brushed the strands away from his mate's neck, baring his nape. The sweet, familiar smell of weak omega filled his nose and flooded his senses. Instincts were thrumming like alarms in his body, demanding he pull the man closer, demanding that he mark his territory, demanding that he hunt and subdue those who had dared to harm his mate. Pity that he was the one that had done the worst damage. He was paying penance now for those transgressions. 

He pressed a kiss to the gland in Keith's neck. "Baby...I'm going to take care of you now, the way I should have before."

Keith did not react, lost as he was to the clutches of a deep sleep. 

Shiro nuzzled closer, rubbing his cheek against Keith's neck before scenting him ever so gently. When he woke, Keith would know that he had been there. If his scent was too strong, he feared Keith might fall into another fit. Just a touch would do, enough to reassure his mate that his alpha was there, guarding and protecting. 

True to his word, Coran returned and Shiro moved away from the bed guiltily. Coran was, oddly enough, the one person who had not shared any feelings about how he viewed their strained relationship and what to do about mending it. As the one who seemed to monitor the success of Voltron more than anyone, Shiro would have expected the man to have some strong opinions. The aloofness puzzled him, but he was honestly relieved. Everyone had ideas for him, hints at how to approach Keith, ways to woo him. On the other end, he knew Keith was getting earfuls from the Blade members and those words were likely much less kind than the ones he received.

After Coran had checked Kieth's vitals again and made some notes, Shiro cleared his throat. There was something that had been burning in his brain since the failed training exercise.

The man looked at him, awaiting his query.

"Coran, what happened with Prince Lotor? What did he do to Keith?"

\-----------------------

There was no gradual waking from his nightmares. Consciousness crashed down upon him, forcing his eyes wide, his body convulsing angrily. Keith bolted upright, clutching the blanket close to his body, peering around frantically for enemies. The corners were clear, the doorway empty. All was well. He was safe in his room. No monsters, no prince, no bad memories, just him, his safe haven...and Coran.

"Awake now?" The man asked a question so obvious there was no need to answer. 

There was a tingling at the base of his neck that irritated Keith and he rubbed at the spot distractedly. "Shiro was here."

"He was."

"When did he leave?"

"Not too long ago." Coran set his tablet aside and began preparing an injection. It was perhaps another sedative or a pain killer; Keith wasn't too keen on taking either of those, but he ought to allow the man to tend to him. "He stayed with you until the sedative began to wear off. He didn't want to risk upsetting you by being present when you woke."

That was probably a wise idea. Not that he had the energy to be argumentative at the moment, but Keith didn't trust his temper to hold. He had been emotionally hammered by his memories and old wounds had opened, bleeding fresh blood. He did not think he could look at Shiro without remembering at least one of the many visions he had seen. 

Coran slid onto the bed beside him and took his arm gently, prodding at a soft spot until he found a vein and slipped the needle in. "I could fetch him for you." the man offered.

"God. _No_."

There was no more discussion about it. Coran chatted calmly about what had happened in the training room and how he ought to take some time to rest, but Keith was not hearing him. In their line of work, there was no such thing as rest or time off. Whatever hits they took, be it mental or physical, they patched up as best they could and continued on their merry way, pretending not to feel the lingering pains. It was a sad but universally accepted truth. To show pain was to show weakness and they could not afford that.

Sensing his resistance, Coran reached over and put an arm around his shoulder. "You've been working yourself to exhaustion for weeks now, Keith. These are stressful times for you. You need to take care of yourself. You won't be helping anyone if you don't help yourself first."

A shudder ran down Keith's spine, but he instinctively curled into the man's arm. Being a loner omega had its benefits, as it had tended to keep him out of trouble for years, but when it came time to join a pack, he had been at an utter loss, never knowing who he could fully trust and learning through sometimes painful experiences how to tread. Whether he had liked it or not, as team Voltron they were a pack and he could not just stay aloof, as he had done the entirety of his life. He had never known the comfort another omega could bring. Coran was far more respectful of boundaries than any other presenting person he had met, hardly ever touching, always maintaining a reasonable distance. 

Even with such respectable distance between them, the scent of another omega drew him in. He had never known the comfort of a parent and he had barely had any friends. When he had first smelled the welcoming pheromones rolling off of Coran in pleasant waves, Keith had panicked. The man was no threat, but he did not know what to make of him or why he had such a strong urge to trust Coran. He had never felt such a desire for closeness before, save when Shiro had started expressing interest in mating. But this was wholly different. Something inside of him had ached, as if he had found a long lost family member who was making him whole.

Eventually, he had sorted out his emotions enough to realize that he was simply reacting to another omega. He had never experienced such a draw before; every other omega he had encounter had repelled him. There had been packs of them at the garrison, traveling in little herds, teasing the alphas and betas with their mingled scent, but they were vicious. Omegas did not routinely stake claim or mark territory, but the ones he had encountered had strong opinions on who was 'theirs' and who was up for grabs. Many of the alphas thought it was cute. Keith had found it embarrassing, seeing as he was naturally lumped in with their kind. 

The entire reason he had come to Shiro's attention was because he had knocked another omega on his ass. That was still a fond memory for Keith; the idiot had the audacity to try and play lead omega on him of all people. As if he would cower and roll over. Clearly, the boy hadn't seen the damage Keith did in the training room. So, he had educated his fellow omega. Of course, to all outsiders it looked like a typical omega brawl, fighting over an alpha's attention, but it had felt good to let his fellow omegas know that he didn't play by their rules.

He had let his claws out and when he had turned to face the gathered crowd he had been snared by Shiro's intense stare. There was a cloud of arousal hanging about the gathering, but he could not pinpoint where any specific smell was coming from. There were likely several sources. He hadn't cared; let them stare. He turned back to his fellow omega, yanked him to his feet, and snarled in his face,

"I don't play your dumbass game. I'm here to work, not fuck. So bend over and flash your screw hole for whatever alpha prick you want, just leave me out of it!"

Unwittingly, he had inspired a thousand alpha wet dreams. He was suddenly the object of desire; he would be no easy conquest, he needed an alpha to subdue him. The flood of attention he received after the altercation had been overwhelming. He could have used the comforting shoulder of another omega back then. Somehow though he had found Shiro and that had been enough.

Coran's shoulder was there now and he nestled into it, breathing deep and finding comfort in his soothing smell. 

"Do you ever hate it?" He mumbled against the man's clothing.

Coran hummed. "Hate what?"

"Being what we are? Always having to be soft and gentle? Always cleaning up after a bunch of slob children?" He had never noticed how unfair it was until chores needed to be done and suddenly no one else was available to help. He had been head of Voltron and lord of the washing machines. Any amusement Keith had felt at the polar positions died very quickly.

The man chuckled. "You don't seem very soft or gentle to me."

"True enough. Does that make me unappealing?" He fit very few of the omega stereotypes. 

"Well, you have a mate of many years, so I'd say that at least Shiro finds you appealing."

As if there were any question about that. Keith snorted, thinking of the many times he had caught his mate trailing after him, aroused and wanting. He shouldn't care whether he was considered an appealing omega or not. He shouldn't---but he did. If he wasn't appealing, then he had no hope of keeping his mate. The idea made his palms sweat and his head spin.

"I don't know how to make this better." He confessed, voice barely a whisper. He was afraid to admit it, afraid of the truth, but denying it for much longer would end in disaster.

"Shiro can help." Coran offered.

"Maybe he can. But that would mean talking."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'd have to tell him everything."

"Doesn't he deserve to know? He _is_ your mate."

Keith sighed, burrowing further into the man's shoulder. He had promised that he would finally break his silence and speak with his mate, allowing them both to find out where they stood and to move on. His stomach did a worried flop, wondering if he would be moving on alone. Fear or no, it was a promise he knew he had to keep.

_You would deserve it. Accept it._

Tomorrow. Once he had fully recovered and gotten enough sleep, he would have the energy for a thorough talk. It wouldn't be as bad as he imagine, Keith was sure. His mind tended to conjure the worst scenario, but if he had Shiro's protective scent lingering on him then there was hope. And if ever there was an alpha to understand the particulars of unpleasant situations he had been forced into, it was Shiro. Everything would be alright, he told himself. For a little while longer though, he wanted to stay in the cocoon of safety his fellow omega provided.  
\------------------------

The sound of the bridge door sliding open drew Pidge's attention and she looked up from the report she was preparing. She had expected Shiro to make another set of rounds before retiring early, as he had said, or perhaps Allura had come to check on progress. To her surprise, Keith trudged in, limbs swaying heavily as he fought against exhaustion. Each step looked like it took monumental effort on his part. It worried her. 

Hunk and Lance had turned as well, sharing a concerned look before Lance waved to their comrade.

"Catching up on what you missed?" he asked, uncertain what to say. "Shiro had said that you would be resting for the rest of the night."

Keith grunted, dragging himself to the blue paladin and leaning heavily against the back of his chair. "Are we still orbiting the planet? Where the rebels are stationed?"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "We are. Why?"

"Do you have a location for them? A base? Anything where a few of them might be tracked down?"

A beat of silence passed; they had heard this line of questioning many times before. 

Clearing her throat, Pidge threw a map onto the main screen. The image slowly drew in until it settled on a small town. "Here. There looks to be a bar of sorts where the rougher residents go to take a load off. Our rebels are there."

"At the space bar." Lance nodded. 

"The space bar." Hunk echoed.

"Hn." Keith stared at the rundown building, his eyes tired and bleary. He wasn't in the mood to be playing games right then, but if the rebels had their defenses down they had an opportunity. "Pidge, you studied them, right? What does your report say? Are they lovers or fighters?"

Three pairs of eyes settled on him, concerned, surprised, judging. 

"Pidge?" Keith snapped.

She huffed, growing uncomfortable. "They seem to be fighters."

Which would make for a much longer night than he was hoping for. Still, an opportunity was an opportunity. Their intelligence could be valuable. He had to take the chance. Pushing off from Lance's chair, he turned to Pidge to address her.

"I'll need one of your cameras so I can set up a feed for you. Lance, are you coming?" He looked to the man and found his friend staring at him with a hard expression. 

"Keith, you can't be serious."

"When am I not serious?"

Lance sneered. "But Shiro is--!"

"---Is asleep." Keith cut him off. "I'm going, with or without your backup. Make up your mind now."

Lance hated being put on the spot. This whole lover's tiff had put all of them in the awkward position of having to tread lightly, lest they favor one of their teammates over another. They were dancing on eggshells. He ground his teeth, cursing Keith for refusing to actually take the time to sit down with Shiro and talk it out. He needed to know that this was okay by Shiro, that they weren't helping Keith sneak around and do something that would harm their leader. God knew Shiro didn't need any more blows and damn was he going to take a nasty beating when Keith _did_ spill. 

"I should let you go on your own and get your ass kicked." he snapped and instantly regretted it when he saw the way Keith's face crumbled. 

"Fine." Keith mumbled, turning his back to them. "Stay here."

He paused in the doorway, hesitating, questioning his own resolve. No one stopped him. No one called after him. _No one cares_. He ground his teeth, spurred by a sudden rush of anger. Someone had to do something. He wasn't going to stand around and wait. War waited on no one.

"I'm going hunting." He growled, unheard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up the pieces of their shattered lives is a task far harder than Keith or Shiro expected. They aren't the only ones suffering through the strain; the entire team walks the edge of a knife. Soon enough, they know, someone will be cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey! 
> 
> Wow, there were so many great reactions to last chapter! I'm so glad you're all enjoying the trip! I have a lot planned for this, so hang on!
> 
> I think I might start doing drabbles and recs for this over on my tumblr, now that we're finally knee deep into the universe. There is so much in my head that just doesn't make it into the fics. 
> 
> Enjoy! And thank you for all the lovely feedback!

Bare arms were out. Fighters were too rough to allow too much exposed skin, even if the more flesh he displayed meant stronger reactions. Skipping over the set of short sleeves he had, Keith picked up his quarter sleeve shirt and considered it a moment. Black. Most of his pitiful closet was comprised of black. Black pants, black t-shirts, black thermal wear. Black, black, black. And he hadn't even been trying to be ironic; by sheer luck he had been properly color coordinated with his lion. When he had been the black paladin at least. 

Keith frowned, shutting the drawer and pulling the shirt over his head. He supposed that the time for mourning was over. Three years had passed and, as it had turned out, there was nothing for him to mourn, save the death of his sanity and self-worth. He had one piece of red clothing left, much to Red's delight. Plucking his jacket from the floor, he held it before him, examining the red and black leather carefully. It was a vast improvement from his old one, which had been threadbare and too small, but seventeen year old him wasn't about to get picky when a layer of clothing was the one thing keeping him from hypothermia in the desert. 

Well, he was fashionable now for fashion's sake, in his matching leather and sleek black. Alphas liked their prey looking pretty. With that encouraging thought drumming in his head, he swung his blade onto his back and headed for the ship hangar. 

\-------------------------------

Before the elevator doors could shut, Lance shoved his hand between them, slipping into the tiny space with an annoyed grunt. Keith's brows lifted in surprise, but he moved aside to give him space. In the man's arm was his rifle and at his hip a satchel of ammunition. 

"I thought you wanted me to get my ass kicked." Keith said, pointedly refusing to look at the man.

Lance grunted, also stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm your best friend. Even when you do stupid shit, I have to be there to bail you out."

A part of Keith was relieved to have the company. There was a reason that these were not solo missions. Having Lance's aim at his disposal was reassuring. Even so...

"If you're going to judge me for it, you may as well stay."

"You'd better get used to being judged. We aren't playing by the same rules now. Shiro is back."

Shiro. It always came back to Shiro. Keith snarled at the wall. The moment the man had walked back into their lives, he had felt his authority slipping away. That, he could abide by. Shiro was the alpha. Shiro was the rightful leader of Voltron--even if he was currently failing every mission they set out on. What Keith could not quietly stomach was having his own autonomy turned on him. Overnight it seemed that every decision he made was now directly tied to what Shiro wanted, whether or not Shiro approved.

"I'm not that type of bitch." he ground through clenched teeth.

"What?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

It was time to set the record straight. "There are two kinds of omegas."

"Which are?"

"Type one, the doting omega, the 'oh, my darling, let me do that for you, let me serve you, let me be your happy slave and do as you tell me for the rest of my life' type." He pitched his voice high, mimicking the giggling gaggle of female omegas he had encountered at the garrison.

The imitation was uncanny. Lance cringed, also remembering them. "And the second type?"

"The loner omega. The 'you go fuck off over there and I will be over here, a chill party of one' type."

There was no doubt in Lance's mind which one of those two categories his friend fell into. He didn't recall too much about Keith from their garrison days, other than that he was the star of the class and he had been fiercely jealous of that, but he knew that he didn't travel in packs, like the other omegas had. 

"Loner omega, huh? And that doesn't change when you mate?"

Keith felt an irritation headache coming on. It wasn't Lance's fault; non-natured were often confused about the nuances of their habits. It had taken Hunk weeks to figure out that it was perfectly safe for him to stand by Pidge, even if she was an alpha, because he was bonded with Shiro and they were pack. Perhaps it wasn't as easy to comprehend as he thought; he had years to come to terms with it all. 

"I may dote on Shiro when he gets sick or needs me, but I'm not going to go out of my way to clean up after him when he has two capable hands of his own. That's servitude, not love."

He glanced over, hoping that he was making sense. Lance stared at him, his expression confused. 

"But you're an omega."

And that was all that mattered. 

"I'm not that type of bitch." he repeated, gripping the strap of his scabbard and pulling the sheath tight against his back. 

He had said something wrong, Lance realized. The entire conversation was surreal and unpleasant. Any number of things he had said could have been an insult. How was he to know, he asked himself, coughing into his hand and staring ahead solemnly. They hadn't ever really discussed what it meant to be natured, he just knew from observation and brief explanations that alphas were the top dog and omegas were their---he hesitated to say bitches. There was something derogatory in the term, even when Keith tossed it about. On Keith's tongue it sounded like a curse. If half of what he had heard about omegas was true, Lance supposed it _was_ a curse, in a way. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Keith ground his knuckles into his neck, working at the muscle there. His friend pressed in, mouth tightening unhappily as he kneaded circles into his own flesh, as if digging something out. He didn't know what that was about, but Lance had seen him do it before every hunting trip and as such was confident that it had something to do with being natured. 

The silence between them was strained, but he couldn't think of a thing to say until they were aboard a ship and nearing their landing site.

"I'm not trying to judge you." he blurted.

Keith didn't even flinch. "But you are."

"You don't think that you should consider Shiro just a little bit here, given what you're doing? I mean--look at you."

Keith did look. He knew the insinuation. Knee high boots, leather pants, leather jacket, carefully swept back hair. It was more care than he put into his appearance in a typical week. He was a dish and he was dangling himself as bait for a horde of hungry mouths. 

"What?" he snapped, unfastening his belt and grabbing his sword. "Can't I want to look nice?"

"You know you dressed like that for a specific purpose."

And that purpose did not include seducing his mate. "So?" 

"So?!" Lance was scandalized.

That was fine by Keith, he was beginning to feel scandalized as well. "Just land this hunk of junk and do yourself a favor and don't say anything else. I have to save my energy for the alphas."

\--------------------------

Shiro held the grey vest to his nose, inhaling deeply, holding the scent in his chest, and releasing it slowly in a heavy sigh. The smell was driving him mad. How he had managed to stay in Keith's room all evening and not give into the urge to sniff every article of clothing he could find, he wasn't sure. The man's scent had been everywhere, embedded in every object he touched. The sheets reeked in the most delicious way and he had nearly fallen sleep, his cheek pressed to the blankets, hand wrapped loosely with Keith's. 

That was still forbidden territory, so he had settled with sniffing at the covers sporadically while he tended to his mate. The temptation had been great to steal a pillow case or even a sock. Of course, Keith would have noticed the theft and he was in no mood to be in any more hot water than he was currently in. The pile of dirty laundry had been enticing all the same, especially when he noticed a pair of underwear sitting right atop. Almost he gave in to the desire, but the notion of getting caught sniffing on his mate's dirty undergarments was enough to stall his primal side. He wasn't that desperate just yet...but he was getting there.

His clothes still smelled of Keith, the scent lingering on his skin and warming him. A shroud of happiness had wrapped around him as he lingered in that blessed smelling room. For a time he was content, at peace with his lot. 

But it was short lived. Alone again, he felt his want rekindle until he burned to be near his mate, to have his scent all over his body. The more he smelled, the more he craved. The scent that had pressed into his clothes and woven into his nostrils wasn't the usual spicy, angry scent that hung about Keith. The scent was softer, more desperate. It was weakness and need. Primal urges rose vigorously, his blood thundering in his veins. Keith could light his passions any day, but when he was weak, in need, smelling very omega, the sleeping beast in Shiro woke. 

He groaned, feeling his cock harden, and took another long sniff on his vest. If Keith would just let him, he could make him feel better. A weak omega needed his alpha's love and support, and god, Shiro had so much love to give. 

Dropping into bed, he yanked at his belt and unzipped his pants, his cock eagerly awaiting his hand. His body jolted when he wrapped his fingers around himself and stroked upwards. He had pleasured himself many times since his return, Shiro wasn't too proud to admit it, but never had he had Keith's scent to drive him. Encouraged, he pressed his vest to his nose again and squeezed his shaft. 

Images flooded in on the heels of Keith's scent. He wanted Keith on his knees, hunched over and presenting himself like a proper omega. His alpha side always purred in appreciation when he mounted his mate properly, gripping on his hips and holding the man down with his weight. Every thrust and growl was met with a beseeching keen or moan, a wordless plea for his alpha to rut harder. Keith could keen so wontonly, the memory if it made Shiro tense, his frantic stroking increasing. He could envision those lovely eyes settled on him, pleading silently as his mate quivered in need, dripping slick. 

They would make love like animals, with Keith crouched beneath him, mewling in pleasure as he was ridden. Shiro imagined grasping his mate's hips and holding him steady as he mounted him. Slipping inside was always an ecstasy of itself, his sensitive cock surrounded by loose, wet, heat. When he pushed in this time, he imagined Keith would scream and moan, pressing his cheek to the bed and beg for him to knot. As hard as he was, as desperate as he was, a few thrusts was all it would take and he would be done. His knot would catch on his mate's body and they would spend the next twenty or so minutes wound together, two bodies and one soul.

He arched his hips, groaning deeply as he came into his hand. His knot was swelling, eager to be buried deep inside of his mate. Just the scent of Keith had him ready to rut all night. With some persuasion, he was able to stop himself from swelling completely and he forced himself to clean up. 

That was wrong, he thought, wiping the semen from his hand and belly. He shouldn't have---

No, Shiro shook his head. It had felt so right. His hand was a poor substitute for his mate's body, but the flood of pleasure that he experienced at the memories of Keith's body was needed. There was no shame in lewdness. They were, by nature, drawn to the dark joys of sex. They needed the warmth of each other's bodies. He needed Keith. Until Keith was ready give himself though, his memories and imagination would have to suffice.

\--------------------------------  
"Do you think this will end well?"

Pidge looked up from her monitor, surprised by the question. It wasn't often that her opinion was asked for on this particular topic. Perhaps that was because said topic was taboo, but alone, she knew all of them wondered about the state of their teammates' relationship. Turning around, she found Hunk slouched in his chair, watching the feed from the camera Keith had placed with a small frown. 

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean..." He trailed off, considering his thoughts and fears and how best to articulate them. "I mean, we're all concerned that this will upset Shiro, right? Even Keith looked like he had some reservations. So, do you think this will blow up in everyone's face? I don't think any of us want to deal with an angry alpha."

There were a dozen ways that Pidge could see the situation turning out badly for them. There were so many variables, she could not see a situation where there weren't at least a few adverse side effects to be suffered. It was the curse of being the analytical one; she tended to see outcomes before all others. Even so, she had found herself, surprisingly enough, siding with Keith's thinking.

"Shiro isn't so thin skinned that he'd overlook an opportunity to gain intelligence without entering into a damaging and life threatening battle." She said, turning back to watch the feed. "Keith isn't doing anything wrong; he's using assets at his disposal to score a win. For all of us."

Hunk groaned, uncertain where his own conscience placed him. He always seemed to be teetering from one side to the other, one minute thinking one way, the next minute thinking another. That was the problem with war; they always seemed to be treading in morally grey waters. Much as he didn't want to pick sides, and much as he attempted not too, he couldn't help but have opinions. 

Truthfully, the idea of Shiro being angry was the least of his concerns. An angry alpha was a hassle, but Hunk wasn't certain Shiro had a right to be angry. While the man was gone, they plunged onward with their task as defenders of the universe. Sometimes that meant getting their hands dirty. Shiro knew that. What did concern him was the potential danger these reconnaissance missions put Keith in. It was a clever tactic and one that never failed to yield results, but the risk made him shake and watch the monitors like a hawk.

They'd had a botched mission once. He wasn't keen on seeing Keith get destroyed again. His eyes strayed to Lance, leaning inconspicuously against a wall in the corner of the bar, watching everything from under the fall of a shadow. He looked casual and nonchalant, but Hunk knew from quiet discussion that Lance was always on edge when they went 'hunting'. When you walked into the lion's den, you had to be prepared for attack each second. Hence why the paladin always had a finger on the trigger.

Lance moved suddenly on the screen, head jerking upwards, free hand straying to his pistol. 

"Movement." Hunk called.

"False alarm. Keith has it covered."

This was too much for his weak heart. "I wish we could all do this together. We work better as a team."

"If only." Pidge murmured, sharing the same desire.  
\--------------------

A shrill cheer drew Shiro from his plotted course and towards the bridge. He had one more set of rounds to do before retiring; exhausted as he was from the bonding exercises and then watching over Keith for the remainder of the day, he had duties he could not shirk. Coran had waved him off with a bottle of tablets to help with his depression, saying nothing more about the afternoon than he hoped both Shiro and Keith would keep well.

He had looked at the tablets with disdain, but accepted them. They were a necessary crutch. After so many years of taking them, he knew he should not have been so opposed to them. The only way he could manage his crushing depression was through those tiny pills and he had to admit that, when he actually maintained his regiment, he was a thousand times better. The clouds in his head cleared and he could finally see a bit of sun. 

He had been shrouded in darkness for three long years. It was time to clear the sky.

"I would like to speak with you at some point about adjusting the medication." Coran said before he could leave the medical bay.

Shiro frowned, turning in the door. "I don't think there's much of a point to that, do you?"

"Of course there is. You were held prisoner for three years. You haven't spoken about it once. It's important to open up." Coran smiled, ever the voice of reason. "You're important, Shiro. Everyone deserves to be consoled and comforted."

Internally, a part of him was collapsing, giving in to the desire to divulge all. He ached to have someone to speak to, longed to share everything he had seen and that had been done to him. There were so many stories to be told, but there was only one ear he wanted to hear them.

He cleared his throat, steeling himself. "Not right now. We have to focus on Keith. When he's better put together maybe we can talk."

The mate came first. Despite everything he had been through, Shiro felt sickly sure that Keith had been through worse. This time had been different. He couldn't be reassured by the fact that, while he had been absent, his mate had been well taken care of. Gazing into Keith's eyes, he could see the walls that had been built up, closing the man off, shuttering him into a cold world of his own making. No one could touch him unless he allowed it. 

It was impossible to get close. Even their team, who sheltered and loved one another, were trapped on the other side of the wall Keith had built. A tableau of a functioning team was erected for the sake of outsiders, with them all playing their parts as naturally as they could. Beneath the strained smiles and forced laughter, he could sense the tendril of discontent winding around them all. The barbs were sharper than needed, comments made out of hand, dark and dangerous looks cast all about, and at the center of it all was him and Keith. 

Shiro had considered giving up on rounds and going directly to Keith's room, as his concerned alpha nature demanded. Days and weeks and months of listening to his instincts make demands left him feeling raw and listless. His alpha brain was relentless in its pursuit of satisfaction. Until he finally had Keith in his bed, he would find no peace.

Rounds first; his insatiable id would need to wait. 

So late in the evening, the castle was silent, the lights dimmed and all crew members hidden away until the next day. The halls seemed to vibrate in solitude and Shiro frowned, pushing down a nervous shudder. Quiet did not mean unsafe, he reminded himself. Darkness was not the enemy. Here there were friends. Here there was security.

The stillness split suddenly, a cry of joy rending the air, and he jolted, alarmed. Shiro took a hesitant step, listening as whoops and hollers of congratulations echoed through the corridor. Through the mingled voices he heard Pidge exclaim happily that something was greater than she had expected it to be. Lance had said something in a boastful tone and then Keith had volleyed back--

Wait. Shiro stood up straighter, his ears pricking in interest. Keith was there? When had the man left his room? 

Worries aflame, he lurched into a run, skidding onto the bridge as Pidge vaulted to her feet and threw her arms around Keith's neck. He watched the display quietly, brows pinched in confusion. They hugged and whispered softly between one another, a picture of happiness. Pride glowed in Pidge's eyes and Shiro felt a sharp twinge of jealousy as Keith gazed back at her, pleased that he had made her proud. 

All at once a flurry of emotions passed through him, blurring his vision in anger. Hunk glanced over his shoulder as the man began storming over, his face cold and hard.

"Oh! Shiro!"

The joy evaporated as soon as they turned and saw him stalking closer. Wisely, Pidge unwrapped herself from Keith and stepped aside. The crowd was parting for him and though Shiro knew he should keep calm and be the levelheaded leader he was touted as, he could not maintain the facade.

"You should be in bed; you aren't well." he snapped, stepping just a tad closer to Keith than need be. "What are you all doing in here? What's all the celebrating about?"

No one would answer him. Guilty looks abound as they turned from one to the other, searching for some sort of solution to diffuse the situation. Keith coughed quietly, taking a hesitant step backwards, gaining some space. 

"We're just reviewing some new data we received." Pidge blurted, hoping to divert Shiro's attention.

His accusing stare swung her way and she snapped her mouth shut in the face of the lead alpha's anger.

"Shiro." Keith growled softly, planting a hand firmly on his chest. "We were just going through intelligence reports. Do not get upset over this. It's nothing."

A set of wary glances passed between Lance and Hunk. Shiro noted it immediately and returned his mate's growl with a low one of his own.

"You were supposed to be in bed, resting."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Clearly not." He grabbed Keith by the arm and hauled him back, closing the distance between them. The sane part of his brain was screaming that he was overreacting, but he couldn't listen. His mate was hurt; he could still smell the weakness emanating from deep in Keith's bones. He needed to recover. Whatever intelligence they had been cheering over could wait. 

He loosened his grip slightly, placing his other hand on Keith's back and rubbing soothingly. That was when he finally noticed the leather. His nails caught in the stiff material, body taut as he looked his mate over. Dark insinuations came to his tongue, but he swallowed them. 

Cottoning onto the track of his thoughts, Keith shrank back, tugging at his jacket hem self-consciously. 

Shiro leaned forward, eyes narrow, and inhaled deeply. The tang of Pidge's scent struck his nose, strong in its recent application, but beneath her scent was something else. Something-- _someone_ lingered on his mate's skin. Keith swallowed, going rigid.

He leaned closer, barely able to contain his threatening growl. "Why do you smell like another alpha?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow finally comes. It isn't as rewarding as Shiro had hoped, but it is a definite start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a tad early as I had everything done.
> 
> I swear I'm not trying to make anyone an asshole, I'm just aiming to make them realistic. Which...tends to mean they have their asshole moments lol Especially in this scenario. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for the support! I cry happily at the attention! 
> 
> Oh, there are some Alpha Hunter ficlets up on my tumble, if you'd like some light reading!

_Tomorrow_. Shiro hated that word with a burning passion now. Tomorrow was the promise of salvation, the promise of a break in his torment, the promise of a warm body in his arms and his soul at last becoming complete. And as with all promises of tomorrow, they never came. Tomorrow was unobtainable. Tomorrow was the dream that he chased after like a fool, tripping over himself to grab just a scrap of it, to catch a glimpse of what that tomorrow might bring. Tomorrow did not exist and he had come to believe that it never would.

"Tomorrow." He clenched his jaw, screwing his eyes shut so that he would not be glowering death upon his mate. "You always say tomorrow. You _always_ say--" he cut himself off before he barked a curse, turning that violent energy upon himself and sinking his nails into his arms. The pain served to ground him and he sucked in a deep breath.

Keith shrank back, sensing the anger and anguish. He discreetly looked away, pretending not to notice how the man gripped his arms so tightly he had to be inflicting pain upon himself. 

"I know I always say tomorrow." He confessed. It was a valid complaint. For him, tomorrow was a gamble. Tomorrow held the promise of salvation or damnation. Tomorrow was dangerous, but it did not have to be dealt with right then. For a time, he could stave off the consequences of their actions. There was always another tomorrow. 

"Keith. You owe me _something_ here." Whatever he had walked in on, whatever had transpired before he had arrived on the bridge and found the rest of the team cheerfully celebrating, he was in the dark. No one dared speak a word of it to him. Perhaps he was vastly overreacting and there was nothing for him to be upset about. How was he to know? No one said a thing to him, as if they thought the slightest upset might break him.

With no explanation to guide him, Shiro allowed himself to be angry. There were a dozen, maybe a hundred, dangerous conclusions he could draw from the little he knew. What he knew was that the team had acted without consulting him or including him, his mate had slipped from his bed--disrupting his recovery at that--and gone on a mission of great possible danger, and when Keith came back he stank of alpha. 

Demanding answers had yielded no results. He was in no mood to be patient. Guilty looks had abound and the only one brave enough to face his rage was his mate, making pitiful attempts to keep him calm. It was a losing battle and soon Keith was falling into a panic. 

Keith's pale complexion and wide, fearful eyes had been the check he had needed. In the back of his mind his alpha side snapped and howled, enraged that he was so excluded, demanding answers and, if need be, retribution. With valiant effort, he pushed the thoughts aside. His mate reeked of another-- _betrayal_ his alpha id growled--, but his mate was also sick and scared. His touched turned gentle and he pulled Keith from the room, frowning disapprovingly at the rest of the team before they disappeared. 

He might have imagined it, but Shiro thought that Keith was trembling. He loosened his grip on the man's arm even more, forcing out his soothing pheromones. Keith glanced at him warily, likely sensing his tactic. They paused just outside of Keith's room ( _their room_ alpha hissed) and the man hastily stepped away. Shiro knew he would not be invited in. He knew his presence wasn't wanted and would not be tolerated. Rather than press for entrance and a long discussion, he demanded answers right there in the hall. 

He had been promised answers tomorrow. 

"I can't keep waiting on tomorrow." Shiro grumbled, fixing his hard gaze on his mate when he was better controlled. 

Keith fidgeted beneath his stare. He knew that he owed Shiro an explanation. He owed a good deal more than just a verbal band aid for the man's wounded pride, but he could not summon the energy to set matters right. Not that moment. It had been an emotionally taxing day and then an impromptu hunting trip had taken place. That alone would have sent him to bed for a hard sleep, but to have his mate discover what they were about was exhausting. He could not manage the barrage of fear and anxiety.

"I know," Keith mumbled, shoulders drooping, back slouched, "but I can't offer you an explanation now."

" _Keith_."

"I'm too tired." He shook his head. "My head hurts, I want to shower and get this smell off of me, and---and you deserve a full and complete explanation that I just can't give right now. _Please_. Just wait until tomorrow."

The voice was snapping in the back of Shiro's mind again, a little demon urging him to act on instinct alone. He hated that beast sometimes and right then he loathed the monster that urged him to push for more, to harm his mate with thoughtless actions. His alphaness frightened him at times; he couldn't imagine how terrified Keith could be. 

"Tomorrow." he ground out, thinking of how weak his mate smelled. Two deep breathes and he felt somewhat calmer. "Take your shower, scrub that stench off of you, and get into bed. You push yourself too hard."

Pain stung Keith's eyes and he wondered if he had taken a wound from the hunt and had not realized until that moment, as his adrenaline wound down. At Shiro's stunned and dismayed expression he realized that, no, it was no wound, but the beginnings of tears. _Stupid_ , he chided himself, steeling his resolve. How deprived was he that a kind thought from his despondent mate could make him tear up? Shiro could push, could demand answers, and he would bend, no matter his exhaustion. Shiro could push, but he didn't. Even when he was owed, Shiro did not push, did not step over the boundaries of trust they had spent years establishing. 

"I promise, it isn't what you think. Please try not to worry." he said tiredly, stepping forward.

Shiro hesitated to reply, standing still as his mate closed the distance between them. Keith had not gotten this close of his own free will in---since his return. A helpless noise escaped his throat as Keith stood on his toes and leaned in, rubbing against his neck gently. The heavy scent of weakness and worry filled his nose, followed by the light personal smell of his mate. Shiro whined, resisting the urge to pull the man closer, and allowed Keith to do as he wanted. 

It was over too quickly. When Keith stepped back, looking even more tired than he had a moment before, Shiro wished to step forward and return the favor and properly scent his mate. He huffed instead, positive that his desperation was etched on his face. 

Keith took another step back, slapping at the door keypad halfheartedly until it opened.

"Tomorrow morning." he whispered. "I promise."

Shiro nodded, unable to say anything. He stood for several minutes outside of the door after it had closed. The air was heavy, smelling of fear, exhaustion, worry, and Keith. The gland at the base of his neck throbbed, coming alive at the gentle scenting his mate had given. 

All night he teased at the gland, his neck aflame, the soft smell of his mate growing strong again with each prod. Had his mind not been fraught with worry, he might have been able to sleep well that night, with Keith's scent on him. Alas, his mind was too full. Sleep came in sporadic intervals; when he was lucky he could rest for an hour before he jerked awake at some nightmare and spent another 40 minutes tossing until he managed to fall asleep again. 

He was up and about before anyone else, giving up on slumber after approximately the fifth or six time he woke himself. As such, he was standing outside of Keith's door when the man emerged sometime late in the morning, yawning tiredly, but otherwise appearing well rested. His brows shot up in surprise upon seeing Shiro. 

Needing to say something, he extended the bowl he had brought from the kitchen. "I brought breakfast."

Keith peered into the bowl, mouth tightening. "You...vomited into a food bowl for me. How...thoughtful."

"What?" Shiro yanked the bowl back and examined its contents. "It's porridge!"

"It's grey. And hard." To emphasize his point, he jabbed his finger into the center of the garish matter, leaving a hole in the slop. 

"It's porridge." Shiro repeated, although he could see his mate's argument.

"I think I'll prepare my own breakfast, thank you. Who even let you into the kitchen?"

"I was up early. No one was around. I was unaware the kitchen was off limits to people now."

Keith snorted, hands on his hips. "It is off limits to _you_."

Even his prideful alpha id couldn't find a rebuttal to that insinuation. He trailed after the man, following him to the kitchen and watching as he went about preparing a proper meal. Keith's movements were quick, smooth, and sure. No hint of injury. That was reassuring; every waking moment, Shiro had puzzled over what type of mission his mate had gone on. He assumed, because all he could do at the moment was assume, that it had been a dangerous mission, as there was never a time he could think of that their missions weren't dangerous. 

A bowl was pushed to him, filled with fresh slices of some alien fruit. 

"Eat." Keith advised, rummaging through the foodstuffs. "If you actually ate that grey goop you called porridge, you're going to need more food in you."

"I didn't; I made it just for you."

"So you tried to poison me. Thanks."

Shiro grumbled, plucking up a pale pink slice of fruit and popping it into his mouth. Tart juice splashed the roof of his mouth and he hummed, pleasantly surprised. "My cooking is not poisonous."

"Your cooking," Keith declared, setting his plate down across from him, "sent me to the nurse's office more times than I could count." To say nothing of the horrible toll it had taken on his stomach. 

Shortly after, Hunk meandered into the kitchen, reviewing ingredients in his head when he came upon the two standing on opposite sides of an island, eating silently. It was a sight so unexpected, he stopped and stared. There was Shiro. There was Keith. He listened. Nothing. No arguing, no pleas, just companionable silence. Even the aura of the room, which always seemed tense and heavy when the two were close to one another, held an air of calm. 

"Hunk, you're staring." 

Keith's flat tone held a warning in it, which he quickly heeded. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here. You need me to whip anything up for you?"

A devious glint came to Keith's eyes as he pointed a fork at Shiro. "He's already been in here, whipping things up, tampering with your machines."

"You're trying to get me banned." Shiro grumbled, watching as Hunk frantically checked each device and setting, loudly lamenting the ruination of his fine tuned operation. 

"It's for your own good." Keith replied, taking the empty dishes and discarding them in the proper unit. 

Suddenly, the playfulness in Keith's demeanor disappeared. When he turned back, he stared at Shiro, face slack. It was time to talk. Frankly, Shiro was astonished. Tomorrow had finally come. 

"Let's go." Keith mumbled, gliding past and leading the way.

\------------------

As he had originally planned days ago, he took Shiro to one of the observation decks. The void of space was wide and open outside of the massive windows and he did not feel so trapped. Even so, when he turned to Shiro he told the man to leave the doors open. He needed to have an escape.

Shiro raised a brow, uncertain about the accusation that lurked in the request. He complied all the same, locking the door in the open setting. As they had walked, Keith had grown colder, his body tensing, smells distorting into unpleasant odors of fear and worry. He hated being the object of his mate's fear. 

"Alright," he walked around one of the couches and sat, allowing Keith to maintain a distance, "let's talk. This is long overdue."

Keith grimaced, turning from him to stare at the expanse of space around them. "You have questions. Why don't you ask them?"

"Alright." _Where to begin_? "Before we jump into whatever the hell that was last night, are you alright?"

It was an unexpected question. Keith turned to him, confused. 

"What?"

"I asked if you're alright. I know that three years is a long time to be alone and a lot of horrible things can happen in that span of time. I'm sure you're not keeping me from our room just out of spite. I'll wait for you to tell me exactly what happened, but I just need to know that you're alright."

He stared. Already Keith was at a loss. Exhaustion had overcome him the previous night, but he worried all during his shower over their impending conversation. He expected the alpha to come out. That angry, demanding presence that brought out the worst in Shiro had been chomping at the bit for weeks now. He saw the struggle in his mate's face daily. Still, Shiro fought it, putting his worries for others first. 

"I'm fine." Keith offered quietly, turning back to the window. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, anchoring himself. A pleasant tingle was squirming in his chest, warming him, making his cheeks flush. Could he really fall back in love so quickly? One thoughtful action and he was ready to let himself plummet?

To be fair, Keith thought, it was not one single action that he was appreciating. Shiro had been tormented for months and though he had his moments where the alpha part of him took over, he was patient and doting. Ever the loving mate. 

Sighing, he left the window and sat in the chair across from the man, dropping his gaze to the floor. "What else do you want to know?"

A frown tugged at Shiro's lips. He hadn't truly expected his mate to open up about the worst events that had occurred in his absence, but he had hoped. At the moment, he couldn't risk ending the conversation by bringing up Prince Lotor. It was important history and every time he thought of the vision he had shared with Keith during the bonding exercise he felt his hackles raise in indignation. It was not yet time to tackle that demon. 

"Yesterday night," he began carefully, minding that his tone did not come across as accusing, "you left your room and went on a mission."

Keith nodded. "Yes."

"What type of mission was it?"

"Reconnaissance. The rebels always have good intelligence. For all of our spying, they're usually two steps ahead of us, in terms of knowing what the galra are up to."

Shiro nodded softly. He could accept that. "What type of intelligence was so important you risked your health for it?"

"Any intelligence is worth the risk."

"Nothing is worth your life."

Keith rolled his eyes, leaning back into his seat. He had anticipated such a rebuke. "Yes, dear."

 _Dear_. Shiro felt his face flush in pleasure at the pet name. 

He cleared his throat, trying to hide how affected he was. "When you came back you--smelled of another alpha."

Immediately, Keith was tense, sitting straighter in his chair and staring with wide eyed apprehension as he awaited the coming question. 

"Why?"

One word, one simple, unassuming question, and his world began crashing around him. Keith sucked in a breath, his spine so taut it ached. Breath caught in his chest and before he could blurt out a defense or stupid excuse, he wheezed. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, alarmed. "Keith?"

He swallowed thickly, sucking in air. "I--it's not what you think."

"Isn't it? I was gone for three years." Shiro frowned. "It's understandable that you would get lonely."

"I said it's not like that! I would never do that!"

"I would...understand if you did."

"I _didn't_! Shiro, god, you think I would be unfaithful? I mean, I knew you would think that, but--god! I had hoped you had more faith in me than that!"

Shiro wished that he could say he hadn't let the thought cross his mind, but it had. Often. The coldness he endured when he first returned had stunned him. He could not understand why he was being pushed away, unless there was a sound reason for it. Watching Keith, he had not noted any one of their allies receiving more favorable attention than any other. Still, he could not shake the fear that his mate had moved on and found another.

"It's not that I don't have faith in you. I just---was afraid."

Keith felt a whine building in his throat, but he swallowed it. _Suck it up_ , he hissed at himself. They had only touched the tip of the iceberg. There was much more to plow through. 

"I won't lie to you." He pulled at his shirt anxiously. "There's a reason you could smell an alpha on me."

Shiro waited, uncertain what to expect. Keith squared his shoulders, staring at him frankly.

"To get information from them, it has to be--seduced out of them." He cringed at his wording. Seeing the man pale, he hastily continued. "Don't think too far into it. I don't let them get close. I don't allow anyone to touch."

"But you smelled of them--"

Keith laughed, expression bitter. "Alphas stink. You know that better than anyone. When you're aroused, anyone in a ten foot radius is dowsed in your stench."

He paused for a moment. "Fair enough. And--how do you 'seduce' this information out of them?"

"Its not hard." Keith's tone grew cold. He turned his head to stare out the window, glowering at the stars. "Alphas are stupid--no offense. They leap on any sign of interest. Hell, I don't even have to express interest for them to swarm. Most of them are so hard up for a fuck, they'd jump the first beta or omega they see. But to answer your question, how I do it, I do it the same way every omega at the garrison trapped a mate: look pretty, feign interest, make a lewd insinuation or two, and ask for what I want. They'll trip over themselves to tell me what I want to hear."

Shiro was uncertain how to feel about anything he had heard. Despite Keith's reassurances that the intelligence was worth the effort and risk, he could not reconcile his concerns over his mate's health. He was playing a dangerous game and, being an alpha himself, Shiro knew that such a game could end very badly, if Keith didn't play right. Worse, his mate was confident to a fault. Cocky at worst. They were fetching traits and it was Keith's unusual omega behavior that had initially attracted him, but there were others who would take advantage of an omega's wiliness. 

Alphas were dangerous; Keith seemed to have forgotten that. He could only imagine the types of reactions other alphas had when a soft smelling omega waltzed into their den, looking pretty and smelling sweet. It was an offering to them, a rare opportunity. All it would take was one alpha, desperate and willing to initiate violence for Keith's plans to go awry. 

"Keith," he kept his voice calm, but stern, "alphas aren't something you should be playing with."

The man's tone was off putting, warning even, but Keith was pleasantly surprised with the direction their conversation was going. Always expecting the worst, he had braced himself for an assault of accusations of infidelity and stupidity. Perhaps Shiro did think him stupid, but he could handle that. He would rather his mate think him stupid than faithless.

"I'm careful with what I do." He said evenly.

"You may be careful, but preparation and care does not mean you control the situation. Alphas outnumber you a hundred to one, Keith. That's not an exaggeration. Omegas in battle are unheard of. You may be a skilled warrior, but even you would be unable to defend yourself against a horde of alphas willing to do you harm."

Keith's face contorted as a memory forced into his head, replaying behind his eyes. 

"Keith?"

He blinked away the images, growling at himself.

"Keith?" Shiro called again. "Is everything alright?" 

His mate stared at him, eyes grown cold and mistrustful.

"You can tell me anything, baby."

Something snapped inside Keith's mind. Upon later contemplation, Shiro thought that he had pressed when he should have waited. Years ago he had been able to read his mate's mood and react properly, knowing when to wait for his mate to come to him and when to start the conversation himself. There was an important balance to keep in check and they had both been proud of how well they functioned as a couple, compared to many other alpha/omega partners. 

Imprisonment had made him impatient. For months he had been dying for a word, a soft spoken sentence from his mate. It was baffling when he considered that, until that moment, they had not had a real conversation. Arguments and stilted exchanges had passed between them, but never a full fledged conversation. Once he had Keith talking, he was desperate to keep the conversation going. He wasn't just receiving answers to burning questions, he had his mate's full and undivided attention. 

At the prolonged silence, Shiro reached out, thinking to sooth his mate with a gentle touch, but his hand was slapped away angrily.

"Don't touch me!"

He recognized that knee-jerk reaction to physical contact. For weeks he had flinched at any touch when he had first escaped the galra. "I was only trying to--"

"I said don't touch me!"

Keith sprang to his feet, darting towards the window and putting distance between them.

"Baby, I was only trying to--"

" _Stop_ , pushing me, Shiro!"

He sighed, rising to his feet. "I'm not pushing. You owed me an explanation and then, when we finally started talking, you clammed up. What are you hiding from me?" He took a breath, forcing himself to be calm for Keith's sake. "You can't hide things forever, Keith. I'm your alpha and the head of Voltron. One way or another, it will come out. I would rather hear it from your lips. Is that too much to ask?"

 _No_ , Keith thought, it wasn't much to ask at all. In fact, he preferred that Shiro heard it from him, but Keith was not ready to have that discussion right then. His mate still felt like a stranger. How could Shiro possibly handle the burden of his mate's traumas on top of his own? How could Keith say those things aloud, when he didn't know if his mate would recoil and blame him or fall into a jealous rage?

A shiver of alarm coursed down Shiro's spine. He wasn't getting through to Keith. He could see the beginnings of panic creeping into the man's eyes as his gaze bounced from one place to the next, plotting an escape no doubt. 

"Baby," he crooned, taking a hesitant step forward with his hands raised in a display of placation, "I'm not going to hurt you. Something has got to give though. If you don't want to talk about it right now, we won't talk about it. We need to talk though. We don't even have to talk about the past, if you're not ready for that either. I trust you. I trust that when you're ready to share that history, you'll talk to me."

Slowly, very, _very_ slowly, the tension bled from Keith's shoulders. He pinned his mate with a wary, threatening gaze, huffing when Shiro took one step too many towards him. The man immediately paused, hands still raised.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Keith hesitated. "...Such as?"

"Whatever you'd like." Shiro smiled, his eyes warm and welcoming. 

Through the heavy lines of worry and dark circles beneath the man's eyes, Keith could see the shine of the man he had loved. Shiro had always been the epitome of an alpha male; strong, bold, charismatic, a man who could rally support for his cause and instill hope in those who had none of their own. He was the shining star of the garrison, loved by all who saw him. How could anyone resist him when he all but radiated charm? Keith knew he couldn't.

Several calming breathes helped him gather his wits enough to find his courage once more. "Put your hands down, Shiro, you look ridiculous."

The man chuckled, dropping his hands to his side. A moment of awkward shuffling and wary glances passed before Shiro dared to take a step closer. When Keith did not immediately bolt for the door, he closed the distance between them, drifting to a standstill before his mate. Keith kept his arms folded over his stomach, stubbornly refusing to look up. 

It was alright to push this time, Shiro thought, curling a finger beneath his mate's jaw and tilting his chin upwards. Keith's dark eyes scanned his face, searching for his intentions, ever mistrustful. 

"I love you."

Keith frowned, knowing what he should say, itching to repeat the words. " I---"

A siren burst to life in the hallway, a streak of yellow flashing across the wall as it whirred. Without hesitation, Shiro leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling him close and cradling him protectively.

"What's going on?" he snapped. "What's happening?" 

Keith grumbled, placing his hands on the man's chest and attempting to wriggle free. "Calm down. It means we've been hailed."

"Hailed?" He adjusted his grip on his struggling mate. Until he knew all was well, he was not letting Keith go.

"Stop smothering me and we'll go to the bridge to see who's calling."

A logical action. Still, Shiro hesitated a moment, watching the hallway, waiting to see if any danger lurked. Self-preservation was his second strongest instinct and he had learned that it was better to wait the extra second or two, rather than charge ahead thoughtlessly. Happily, his primary instinct of protecting his mate fell in line with his own needs. 

Even so, Keith grew restless, finding his caution intolerable. Or at least confinement in his arms. A sharp dig of nails into his side startled Shiro enough to loosen his embrace and Keith slipped free, avoiding the hand that reached to pull him back. 

"Come on." he said, tossing his tail of black hair over his shoulder.

He did not glance back to check that Shiro followed. His mind swam with conflicting thoughts and he ran his hands over his upper arms, flesh tingling from being wrapped in his alpha's arms. For years he had yearned to be folded in Shiro's embrace, to feel safe, tucked against the man's solid bulk. There was no denying his racing heartbeat and the warm flush that had settled all through his body. Scared, wary, angry---yet it all slipped away when his mate wrapped him tightly in his arms. Shiro was home. And he finally had his home too.

The brush of fingers against his own startled him and he jerked away. Shiro flinched as well, retracting his hand.

"I'm sorry. Was that too much?"

"It was." Keith answered honestly, turning his gaze to the floor. 

As they neared the bridge, Keith paused, hesitating. Shiro halted as well, maintaining distance. Several long seconds passed. 

"Keith?"

Shiro was concerned. He reached out then pulled his hand back, wary that his touch might trigger some violent reaction again. 

Sighing, Keith lifted his gaze from the floor to the ceiling, fighting against his turbulent emotions. "Maybe...you can try again later."

Surprise came to Shiro's face. "O-oh?"

"I'm not ready to talk about the rest."

"That's fine. I promised that I wouldn't force you and I meant it."

He sighed again. "I suppose I could tell you about the new bases. You'll need to know about those."

Without another word or even a look, Keith continued on to the bridge. At his back, Shiro smiled to himself, watching the man's tail of hair sway. There was still much to uncover, Shiro knew, but he was truly content. A step had finally been taken in the right direction. Together, they had overcome the hardest part and begun on the path to recovery and reconciliation. 

He would need to be patient, Shiro reminded himself, but his alpha senses merely hummed happily at the thought. So long as he was finally getting Keith back, he could wait. He might get his mate back piece by piece, story by story, but that did not deter him. The important thing, the only thing that truly mattered, was that he was getting his Keith back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back; Shiro knew he had screwed up the second the command left his mouth. The following disaster rested on his shoulders. He had rightfully earned Keith's scorn with this fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna leave this one here and go...
> 
> Some ficlets up on my tumblr if you're interested!

How quickly moods changed on board the ship. Upon arriving at the bridge the other paladins ran to them, erupting into a chorus of explanations and excuses. Shiro stalled, bombarded, struggling to make sense of what they were babbling about. The hail had come from a planet friendly to the ideals of Voltron and the resistance, Hunk explained. But they were not a planet friendly to Voltron itself, Pidge added, eyes sliding to Keith. 

"How do you mean?" Shiro asked, following the line of Pidge's gaze and finding his mate glowering at the screen where the planet in question was displayed. 

No one jumped to answer. 

"Guys? I need a little information here."

After casting a look about at the others, Lance offered, "We tried to form an alliance with them before. Several times, actually. They weren't very receptive."

"Hostile to the idea even." Pidge supplied with a dark look.

Shiro paused, taking a moment to consider. "You said this planet is friendly to the resistance?" He received several affirming nods. "If they're hailing us, then maybe they're ready to form that alliance now. Let's get to our lions and see what they want."

"I'm not going."

A heartbeat of silence passed. Shiro grimaced, his spirits plummeting. The others shifted uncomfortably, averting their eyes to study the walls. Things had been going so well that morning. Finally, he had gotten Keith to open up to him. They had touched. There was a promise of more to come. And now...

"What do you mean you're not coming?" he asked, keeping his disappointment from his tone.

Keith did not look at him, attention fixed on the image of the planet. The lines of his face were no longer slack and placid. The perfectly crafted mask of indifference had slipped, replaced by open resentment. 

"I'm not going." he repeated calmly, turning from the screen to look at Shiro. 

There was a challenge in the man's eyes and Shiro groaned inwardly. The last thing he wanted was to get into a verbal sparring match with his mate. It seemed inevitable though. No one was offering him anything; if he had to lead blind, then so be it.

"Keith, you have to come."

"You don't need me for this. In fact, you'll likely do better without me there."

"Keith, we are a team. If this summons could lead to an alliance, then we have to put on the best display we can. That means all of us paladins need to be present."

A malicious grin twisted the corner of Keith's mouth. "These people do not like me, Shiro. No display you put on is going to change that. I'm not going."

So there was history with these people. There was no time to ask for specific details, but Shiro suspected that there was bad blood between the team and whatever people had hailed them. Even Hunk and Lance, who tended to take neutral stances, were eyeing the image of the planet in disdain. Pidge was quietly seething, her smell angry and hot. He waited a beat to see if someone would supply some anecdote that might give him cause to leave Keith behind. They remained silent.

He shook his head, unable to abide by it. "Keith, you're coming. You are the red paladin. Whatever has happened between you and these people needs to be put behind us."

"Shiro--"

"An ally is an ally. We need as many as we can get in this fight."

"Shiro, I am not--"

" _Keith_."

There it was. The alpha tone. Keith snapped his mouth shut, stepping back a pace. His alpha was commanding him, using the tone that he knew his mate could not resist obeying. His good mood soured immediately. It had been years since Shiro had used his alpha tone on him, mostly because he had blindly followed whatever order his mate gave, ever loyal despite how stupid some of Shiro's ideas were. To have the tone used against him now, in this instance, with the others watching, was humiliating.

"Fine," he snapped in annoyance, "I'll come and you can deal with the mess of consequences." He turned on his heel and left, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. 

He had made an error in diplomacy, Shiro realized the moment after he had spoken. He was certain that he was doing the right thing, presenting these potential allies with the full grandeur of Voltron, but he had mangled his attempt to enforce his will and resorted to the easiest method to get his mate to comply. He could forget about trying to hold Keith's hand again for the next several days. His shoulders slumped in defeat. 

Sighing, he waved the others on. "Come on, guys. To the lions."

No few side eye glances were sent his way as the other paladins filed passed. There was scorn in Pidge's eyes and Shiro felt a creeping of guilt in his belly. He would apologize to Keith as soon as he could, he swore. His mate had every right to be upset. He acknowledged that and was ready to beg forgiveness. Truth told, he would get down on his knees and grovel if it would placate his mate. If that would please Keith, he would do it. Whatever Keith wanted, he would do. When all was said and done, his mate's happiness was the only thing that mattered.

\------------

They were greeted with a display of grandeur the likes of which Shiro had never seen before. As their lions descended, great banners of scarlet were raised in their honor. A rain of leaves or petals burst from the turrets of a castle so richly designed it shamed the Castle of Lions. A great crowd stood amass in a courtyard, the men and woman draped in silks and heavy fabrics so ornate it seemed a privileged just to lay eyes on them.

At the head of the procession stood two men of towering stature, their foreheads elongated, wide, black eyes watching the lions in interest. They appeared fish like to Shiro, with their pale blue skin and unreadable eyes. He scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of weaponry; the reactions of the others had put him on edge the longer he considered it. None of them trusted these people and yet he, with no background, ordered them all to descend and try and make peace. It was some relief to find that no one, save a handful of guards, held weapons. That did not mean that there was not an enemy skulking about, concealed in the heavy folds of fabric. 

"Keep your guards up." he advised before Black settled on her haunches and opened the door for him.

The others trailed behind him, taking up their standard V formation. Pidge, he noted, had lodged herself at the back, tightly at Keith's side. Perhaps it was nothing; he was just used to her being at his own back. 

The taller of the two beings approached, his scarlet robes trailing behind him in a train. "You are the new head of Voltron?" he asked when Shiro had stepped forward as ambassador.

Shiro nodded. "I am." He resisted the urge to glance back at Keith. 

His affirming nod produced a toothy smile from the man. He smiled like a piranha. "Praise be to our lords, the true head of Voltron has returned."

Shiro smiled somewhat hesitantly at the reverent tone. "I'm pleased to meet you. As you know, we're always looking for allies to join in our fight against the Galra Empire."

"Of course." the man agreed, inclining his head to look at the Black Lion. "The Empire has been an unrelenting threat to many great kingdoms and civilizations, such as our own. It is a blessing that you have returned, Head of Voltron. Under the leadership of the bitch, your team has failed profusely and made a mockery of the rebellion."

The pleasant smile fell from Shiro's face. This time he could not resist the urge; he turned his body slightly, finding Keith staring at his back, arms crossed over his chest. The man was trying to remain calm, he could see, but the beginnings of a scowl were breaking through the neutral facade. A soft growl rumbled from Pidge's chest and, on the opposite side, Hunk and Lance shifted uncomfortably. Lance's finger was on the trigger of his pistol, Shiro noted with some concern.

He cleared his throat, facing the alien and putting on his leader face. "We're here now to do what we can to gain your trust and allegiance. Whatever has happened in the past, we're looking to move beyond it, to tear down what the Galra Empire has built, and ensure the freedom and prosperity of all those in the universe."

"Then it is a good thing that you are now back in power." The alien turned ever so slightly, raising his hand towards the castle parapet. "If you please; your team is welcome here. Follow and we shall discuss further."

A hail of applause came from the spectators as the team followed after what Shiro assumed was the kingdom's ruler. He glanced at the other's, gauging their expressions. Every one of them seemed on edge, casting suspicious glances left and right. Pidge hung close to Keith's back, glaring threateningly at anyone who stepped too close. Within minutes, he had realized why Keith had refused to accompany them. Never had he heard anyone openly refer to an omega as a bitch; that would have been perceived as too dismissive back on earth, no matter the attitudes held. Perhaps the ruler hadn't realized Keith was standing right there. That did not make it any better. It was understandable why Pidge had assigned herself to the task of protector.

He tried to hang back, to let the others catch up with him so he could walk by Keith's side and offer some form of solidarity and support, but as his steps began to lag the ruler turned and beckoned for him. Glancing back apologetically, he offered a smile to his mate. Keith snarled at him. Apology not accepted. He would not be forgiven for dragging Keith into that situation.

\-------------

The deeper they were drawn into the castle, the more Shiro's spirits sank and his stomach churned anxiously. The opulence of the castle and the grandeur of the displays were a facade, a lovely display to the world all around them, concealing a taint he had not seen outside of galra-run lands. The upkeep was impeccable, maintained by an army of servants scurrying left and right, darting out of their way and hiding their faces in shame as the ruler passed. Each servant looked miserable, malnourished, and filthy. Were they even servants, Shiro wondered. They might have been slaves, for how horribly abused they appeared. 

As they approached, a young girl toppled a bucket, the water splattering on his boots. The monarch turned and hissed at her, cursing her stupidity, but Shiro shook his head, assuring the man that it was no problem. When he leaned down to help the girl to her feet, she recoiled, terrified. Her smell slapped him in the face and he also stumbled back, shocked.

Two more girls rushed over, each grabbing an arm and hauling the servant to her feet. Their frightened gazes followed him as he took several steps back, then turned to their master, who glared venom upon them. They disappeared without a word, but Shiro was on alert. Every servant they passed, he discreetly sniffed at. 

He shouldn't have brought Keith.

After a long trek down golden halls studded with fine arts and antiques, they were shown to a dinning hall. The dinning hall was as tall as a chapel and wide as an arena. Everywhere Shiro looked there was gold. Golden plate ware, massive portraits in gilded frames, curtains glittering with golden thread. How richly the lord presented himself, and yet how poor and ill used his servants were. None of it sat right in Shiro's stomach; he wished to run back to the courtyard and declare this mission a failure. They needed the allies, he reminded himself, tempering his resolve. 

It would be the lord's pleasure, they were told, if the members of Voltron would dine with them. They would be treated as kings, the man promised, waving his hand once as a gaggle of gangly servants entered and prepared the table.  
They were all omegas. 

Shiro's brain tumbled over itself in panic, trying to decipher meaning. The obvious conclusion to draw was that there was some form of caste system. Every person in the castle that was not a servant had smelled alpha. Not even a beta had been present. That fact spoke volumes. It was not unusual for omegas to be scorned or relegated to secondary citizens but nothing he had seen before had prepared him for this. These were children. Teenagers, most of them. There was a child or two among them, face dirty, hands calloused and cracked. It was heinous. 

He turned to his mate just as a serving girl went to Keith's side to place his plate and silverware. She paused, staring at Keith for a long moment before looking to her master for guidance. They all looked to the lord. Shiro awaited the reprimand, thinking she would be scolded for dallying in her duties. They continued to wait. Silence. The man stared hard at Keith, silently debating what to do about his presence.

They had tried to forge an alliance with these people before, Hunk had said. They had refused to ally with Voltron though, Pidge had also said. Shiro felt himself shrink as he glanced back to his mate. Of course these people would not ally themselves with Voltron while Keith had been leader. The display of servitude in the castle said enough of what these people thought of omegas. Omegas were not leaders. To follow one into battle would be an unthinkable insult to their pride.

Without awaiting an invitation, Keith sat, maintaining eye contact with the lord and forcing a pleasant smile. Pride welled in Shiro's chest, seeing his mate refuse to be disregarded. He had chosen Keith to be his successor for a reason. Being alpha or omega did not matter; Keith was the best suited for the role. He was cunning, quick, intelligent, capable of making hard decisions, and ever mindful of the mission at hand. Had he not been born an omega, Shiro suspected that his mate would have reached heights far and above his own. 

The lord, however, saw nothing in Keith but an upstart omega forgetting his place. The man opened his mouth, but before he could say a thing Shiro sat as well, drawing their attention. 

"We thank you for your hospitality." he said, shooting the others a look, urging them to sit.

The tension was palpable, so strong he could cut it with a knife. It could not get worse, Shiro thought. 

\-------------

The weather was far different at his end of the table, so to speak. Keith had expected the snubs and condescending looks. When he had been served last, given the smallest, most undesirable meat from the platter, he hadn't been surprised. Thankfully, he had snacked on rations while flying in, seething indignantly over his mate's unwillingness to listen. Pidge had glanced at his meager meal and empty cup, frowning as she compared it with her heaping portion. 

It was fine, he communicated to her with a weak smile. They had been at this job long enough for him to recognize the game of politics. He played the game just as much, reaching for things that hadn't been offered to him and slurping loudly to disrupt some horrible attempt at humor the lord alien made. He was almost willing to forgive Shiro when he caught a whiff of the man's delight at his antics. Almost. His alpha was the reason he was in the unpleasant situation to begin with.

The pageant dragged on for hours and his attention wandered. He could not help but notice the young omegas scurrying back and forth, stumbling over themselves to remove empty trays, to replenish food, refilling glasses, cleaning up trash discarded by the diners. They never stopped. Not once did he see one pause for breath, though they looked exhausted and weak. 

In another lifetime, another world, he knew that that could have been him. All his life he fought against the tide, refusing to bend to the whim of someone else. His nature demanded that he bow to the will of an alpha. He was meant to be bred and his body knew that. His will was weak and it would only take a nudge from an alpha to break him. His body was not his, it was a vessel for his future mate to use as they saw fit. His body, his mind, his everything, and yet he had no say. Everyone else told him what to do with himself, as if they had a say and he did not. Strangers had the audacity to tell him that he should not feel shame for any urges he had; he couldn't help himself. 

Even before he began hunting, Keith loathed alphas. Their skewed view of themselves and of the omegas that had the misfortune of breathing in the same space as them made them intolerable. He had no urges for any alpha, save Shiro. Even if he was made to be bred, he decided who got between his legs and when that would happen. Fate had ultimately made the decision for him on whether he would have children, but if he had been blessed with the choice, he would not have become another statistic. Too many omegas gave up on their dreams and dropped out of school, devoting the rest of their lives to their alphas and kits. 

As he recalled, Shiro had wanted kits early. Within months of dating, the older boy had let his desires be known. Much as they teased one another, as often as Shiro commented how radiant he would be with a swollen, full belly, that was not what Keith had in mind for himself. Someday, he had thought, there would be kits. But not for a long while. He had no intention of being seventeen and pregnant, abandoning his aspirations because his alpha was a little too hotblooded. 

He frowned suddenly, recalling all those silly, sweet words and the way Shiro had caressed his flat stomach lovingly. Now that he knew how barren he was, he almost wished that he had shared Shiro's desires. As if somehow they could have wished a kit into being just by their love and desire for it. 

Pidge growled suddenly, drawing his attention. The lord had said something or made a joke--he hadn't heard. 

"Don't answer, Keith." she hissed between her teeth.

"What?" He blinked, clearing his mind, and looked to the lord. "I didn't hear that."

He should have heeded the woman's warning. His teammates turned to him, faces pinched and wary. In Shiro's eyes there was an apology. 

The lord stared at him with a hard expression. "Is your attention so lax? I would expect no less from an omega."

Keith fought to suppress his scowl.

"There is a reason omegas are not allowed in my halls." the lord continued, ignoring the tense expressions of his guests, "They are not worthy of being in the presence of their betters. Stupid and worthless, I've found them all to be."

"Well," Keith felt his lips tremble as he forced them into a smile, "as you can see, I am far from worthless. I am a paladin of Voltron."

The lord scoffed. "You are an affront to your very nature. You ought to be tending your cubs like a proper bitch. The only reason your presence is tolerated in this great hall is because we hold your master in such high esteem."

Everyone's gaze swung to Shiro. The man swallowed hard, avoiding the probing eyes of the lord and focusing on the look of death his mate had pinned on him. Hunk and Lance peered at him, silently imploring him to do something, to say something to diffuse the situation. He was the leader. He needed to speak up. Matters needed to be set right.

He worked his mouth, searching for words, but failed.

Keith scoffed loudly, turning from his mate to the lord of the castle. Rising to his feet, he straightened his back, drawing himself to his full height, and lifted his chin defiantly. "My nature has nothing to do with my worth nor does it dictate how I lead my life. I have no litter, nor do I wish for one. And _he_ ," he turned his head slightly to glare at Shiro for a moment, "is not my master. I am my own master."

_Sit down_ , Shiro willed silently. He looked frantically between Keith and the lord, realizing there would be no peaceful resolution. These were people not accustomed to an omega holding power and demanding respect and Keith was not one to bow in the face of insult. 

The lord also rose to his feet, his dark eyes turning black in anger. "Your disrespect and audacity is unbecoming for one of your nature. You are a weak creature with no right to lead. Your taking of your master's role as head of the revolution cost the respect of the universe. Bitches are not meant for war, they are meant to serve."

"I serve no man but myself." Keith declared firmly.

"Make no mistake; you will be put into your proper place. Fear for yourself. The hounds of this war you have created will descend upon you and you will be stripped of your pride and arrogance."

The last string of his patience snapped. Keith snarled, baring his teeth as he slammed a hand upon the table so hard, he toppled a wine flask. 

"Do not think me so weak!" he barked, voice sharp as the edge of a blade. "I have a beast within me that could tear you apart! I am a Galra warrior, born in war and raised to fight! I have more power in my hand than you could dream to possess! I fear neither you or the empire! You, however, should fear me _very much_!"

"Keith!" Shiro leaped to his feet, unable to contain himself any longer. Panic gripped at his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart until his vision spotted and he could hardly breathe. 

Closing his eyes and taking a breath, Keith centered himself. The meeting was over--for him at least. If the others wished to stay and finished out their display of diplomacy, so be it. He would have no support from any of them. He was not so stupid or masochistic that he would force himself to sit among enemies wearing the faces of friends and endure insults made directly to his face. 

Grabbing his helmet from the floor, he did not offer a word of pardon, thanks, or a nod of acknowledgement. None of them were worthy of such respect. The eyes of the serving girls followed him, the lower portions of their faces hidden behind trays or their hands. Perhaps they were snickering at his outburst. Perhaps they were silently cheering him. He would never know. He feared that they wished that they too could have no master while also knowing internally that they would never be given the right to freedom. Had he still been head of Voltron, he would have declared these people an enemy to the ideals of the revolution and the rebellion. How could they claim to fight in the name of freedom when there were slaves in their own homes? 

_They couldn't make that claim_ , Keith seethed, ignoring Red's angry hum as she peered into his mind.

He closed his eyes as the lion hastily departed the planet. He was used to being ridiculed. Everyone had something to say and in their anger many went for the easiest target they could find. Just a bitch, they claimed. No matter how high he climbed, that was all they saw. By sheer necessity, he had grown a thicker hide. Words were words. Let them call him a bitch. At the end of the day, he had still been the victor. He was the head of Voltron. Had been. 

Words were words, but actions spoke volumes. When he was called a bitch, Shiro had not leaped to his defense, as an alpha should their mate. The betrayal hurt, no matter how he tried to excuse the man's actions. His heart ached painfully, cut to the quick. All the joy he had felt that morning, the budding adoration, was snipped short, sheered to the root. Deep down, he knew that, if Shiro had his rathers, the man would command him from the war, back to the safety of their room, never to see the battle field again, never to fly free, to be forgotten.

\------------------------------

A whirlwind of anger and disgust circled Shiro like a tornado, striking him left and right from all sources. He attempted to keep face and stay strong in the wake of admonishments and outright disapproval from his teammates.

"You're the alpha, you should have done something." Lance stated firmly.

"Keith needed backup." Hunk added.

Pidge had the strongest words. "You let him down. Your teammate. Your mate. You let him be harassed and ridiculed. You sent a message to the entire universe that your mate is open game and you aren't going to protect him." 

He could not respond to any of them. They were, of course, right. Even as the events had unfolded, his conscious had been roaring at him to get to his feet and place himself between Keith and the lord. His alpha side was demanding blood. Morbid images clouded his mind, thinking how dark the alien's blood might be, how thick it was, and how it would look dripping from a gorged neck. 

_No, bad thoughts_. He could not allow them to take root. He could not fall back into that hollow place, where he acted solely on instinct and let the beast within take control. The thoughts were persistent though. The visions were so potent, he could practically smell the blood from the lord's chest, torn open by his bare hands, and the man's innards strewn about the floor. That was not enough. His alpha side demanded retribution, demanded that the lord suffer the same humiliation his mate had endured.

Shiro held in a groan, cringing as he imagined pinning Keith down upon the bloodied table, ripping both of their clothes off as the lord's blank, dead eyes stared. His alpha side purred at the idea of rutting his mate in the blood of their enemies. The image of Keith on his back, running blood covered hands over himself and painting his bare skin proudly made him ache. 

He shook the intrusive thoughts away, shuddering in disgust. That side of him could not win. 

\-------

As soon as they had docked on the ship, he was searching for Keith. Several hours had passed since Keith had departed; perhaps it had been enough time for the worst of the man's temper to cool. There would be no escaping Keith's wrath, but Shiro knew he had to face the consequences of his actions--or the lack of action, as it was. He would take whatever verbal beating his mate had to offer with a smile.

The rest of the team splintered off, casting disapproving looks at him as they went. None of them were eager to hear the coming argument. Their verbal battles were legendary among the crew; when he and Keith got into a row, there was no place their voices could not carry. Shiro didn't want them to hear; this would not be an argument, it would be a battle. He did not bother changing into his civilian clothes before he began searching for Keith. It was too urgent.

The training hall was empty, save a pile of ruined drones. Knocking at the man's door yielded no answer and when he pressed his ear close, Shiro could not hear any stirring. He circled the ship distractedly, considering all he had to say, what defense he could offer, and what apology might placate his lover. Just as he was piecing together a thorough explanation of his failings, he came across the man, sitting quietly in a conference room, reviewing footage in the dark.

"Keith." He stepped inside, placing his helmet upon the table.

Keith did not turn, but the man's smell turned sour and bitter. 

"Baby...I-I need to talk to you. I need to--"

"You need to what?" Keith asked sharply, shutting off the video footage and turning to him with a scowl. "You need to drum up some excuse for your ineptitude? You need to apologize so you can feel better about being a failure?"

He winced at that, but conceded that he had failed his mate. "I'm sorry." he offered lamely.

Keith stared, waiting. Shiro stared back, withering in the blazing fury of that gaze. Several long beats of silence passed between them. The longer the silence stretched, the angrier Keith became.

"That's it?" he snapped. " 'I'm sorry'? That's all you have to say? I'm sorry? Do you really think 'sorry' is going to suffice?"

"I--I'm sorry."

"Why are all of you alphas so stupid? Did you really think that by putting on a face of remorse I would just forgive you? Is that how you think this works? You apologize and I just forgive you? It is truly amazing how you alphas view the world around you. You live in your own little bubble, oblivious to everything, expecting the rest of us to cater to your delusions."

He didn't expect to be forgiven, Shiro wished to say, but he remained mute. All of his well crafted arguments, his defenses, fluttered to the floor like discarded paper. 

Keith stood, eyes dark. "You can take your apologies and burn them. Your words mean nothing to me. They never have."

"You don't mean that..."

"Don't I?" He laughed bitterly and pitched his voice to mimic Shiro. "I promise I'll be back, baby. I'll come home. I love you--"

"None of that was a lie!" Shiro barked, unable to stomach the insinuation. "I always planned on coming back to you! I never meant for--"

"Bullshit!" Keith barked back. "You are a liar! And a traitor. And a failure of a diplomat."

Shiro felt this face flush. No one dared speak to him like that. Their enemies had made choice comments about how broken he was and his inability to protect those he cared for, but their words did not count. They blabbered any nonsense they could to try and upset him. There was nothing behind the words to make them mean anything. To hear such insults spat from Keith's mouth, his mate, the one person whose opinion actually mattered, crippled him. 

Anger flared suddenly, his alpha side snarling in defense. "And what about you? Are your tactics any better? You go out to get intelligence and the only way you can think to do it is to crawl around on people's laps and act a slut?!"

"I'm not nearly as stupid as you!" Keith yelled, slamming his palms onto the table and digging his nails in. "I know how to act around who. And if I _wanted_ to slut up then that would be my decisions and you couldn't stop me!"

"You should be ashamed of what you're doing."

"Don't try to act high and mighty, Shiro. You've benefited from every hunt I ever made. How do you think I got the information on where to find you?"

Keith laughed, a hollow, unhappy sound. Shiro clenched his teeth together. He did not want those images in his head. He did not want to think about his mate straddling some alpha's lap, squirming enticingly, whispering lewd promises in exchange for information about the lost paladin. Would Keith really do that? He stared hard at the man, feeling the floor drop from beneath his feet.

Maybe he had gone too far, Keith thought, watching the firm expression on Shiro's face crack and crumble. _No_ , he growled at himself. He would not be made to feel guilty here. 

"You alphas," he shook his head, "you think the world works in strict black and white. Do yourself a favor and get over yourself. You can't fight, you can't form Voltron, you can't even handle a diplomatic meeting without being a crushing disappointment. If this is the best you have to offer, you ought to abdicate power to me and step down." 

Shiro flinched, fighting the urge to flee the room. When it became clear that he would say no more, Keith gathered up his tablet and the device that held the video footage and made to leave the room. He expected Shiro to move aside, having the common decency to accept that his presence would not be tolerated for the moment--perhaps not for the next several days--but the man stood frozen, eyeing him with an expression of betrayal. 

Keith refused to meet his eyes again. He was not a traitor. And if he _was_ a traitor then it was because he had learned to stand on his own two feet and not be dragged down by anyone--not even his mate. If that inherently made him a traitor then so be it. There was more at stake than Shiro's pride or his own. 

He made it halfway down the hall before Shiro ran to him, catching his wrist and pulling him back.

"We can't leave it like this." Shiro demanded, voice tight, as if he were on the verge of breaking down. 

Keith regarded him with a cold expression. "Can't we?"

"Please, Keith, baby, anything--I'll do anything for you! Tell me what you want and I'll do it! Just tell me!"

He was so pitiful, Keith's resolve nearly crumbled. Had his own heart not been bleeding, stung by a hundred sharp twists of a knife, he might have allowed his nurturing instincts to take control and sooth the man. Even as he opened his mouth, he knew he would regret allowing his anger to rule him, but right then he did not care. One cut onto him deserved one cut back.

"You can disappear, that's what you can do for me." he said calmly, yanking his arm free. "That shouldn't be hard for you; it's the only thing you're good at."

Shiro stared at the man's back as he left, never once pausing or turning back. Was this it? Was it over? Had he unwittingly severed the last tie that had held his mate to him? Tears flooded his eyes as he shook his head, taking a stumbling step forward. He scream for Keith, praying that his mate would run back to him, angry, but concerned over his obvious distress. 

It couldn't be over. He had fought too hard to return. Keith had waited for him. They were made for one another. They were mates. Nothing could tear that bond apart. Nothing! He wouldn't let it! Struggling to his feet, he gave chase, screaming for Keith as he went. The man had barricaded himself in their room, refusing to answer as Shiro beat his fists upon the door, sobbing and moaning for him, blubbering apology after apology and plea and after plea. His words were, as his mate had said, worth nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tipping point has been reached. The alpha comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO...last chapter happened. It was very interesting seeing everyone's reactions. I know how you all feel; I'm sure no one believes me when I say I'm rooting for Shiro lol I hope you guys stick with me. It's a tough spot for you as readers. I'm like five chapters ahead of you, script wise, with the ending and plot already planned, so I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel. Let's just say...there are very particular reasons for everyone's behavior. Some of which get dropped in this chapter. 
> 
> So, read on, hopefully you'll enjoy! The plot thickens!

Sleep did not come to Keith at all. Shortly after Shiro began banging on his door, howling and moaning like an injured whelp, Coran had come and guided him back to his room. If nothing else good would come of the day, hopefully the display was the needed push to get Shiro to the med bay to have his head examined. They couldn't keep on this way, ignoring the obvious signs that the man's trauma was taking over. Why everyone looked to him, as if he somehow possessed the cure-all for Shiro's troubled mind, was beyond him. He had his own traumas to tend to and they were rearing their ugly heads with a veracity that left him stunned; heaping his mate's damaged psyche on top of his own was an unfair expectation. Despite what they all thought, he was not what Shiro needed. Shiro needed a doctor. No amount of cuddling, coddling, and doting would heal the deep wounds in the man's mind. 

The strain was becoming too much. He could feel himself slipping through the cracks as his mind grew more and more unhinged. Every attempt he made to pull himself back together quickly came undone. As soon as he felt in control of himself, something, usually something small, triggered his panic. Fear overtook him every waking moment and he so rarely slept now. 

He felt very much like Shiro had, all those years ago upon his escape from the galra. Funny how their lives mirrored one another. He could not offer his mate the succor he needed to truly move on, but he ached to help. Years ago he had stood by Shiro's side and helped him regain control of his life. It would not be so easy this time around, but he had personal experience of his own to guide them. If only he could master himself enough to be a guide. 

Pity and concern aside, he was still fuming the following days, dazed and giving in to every nonsensical impulse he had. Lack of sleep might have contributed to his perpetual foul mood; he was always cranky when he did not sleep enough. Three days of little to no sleep made him a monster. As if to compound his mood, the entire castle seemed to stink of Shiro's despair. There was no place he could go, no corner he could hide in, where the man's smell did not follow. It hung about him like a cloud, a constant reminder of how cold and ungrateful he was. _You don't just ignore your mate, you go out of your way to hurt him_ , his mind whispered scathingly. _You don't deserve him_. 

He had always thought as much. Golden garrison boy Takashi Shirogane had always deserved more than the upstart omega who drew trouble like flames drew moths. There had not been a single omega who had not wanted him. There were alphas who would have happily turned docile for him. Shiro had had the pick of the entire school and the boy's interested gaze had landed on him. _Why_? He had always asked and Shiro just laughed, a confident little grin on his face as he said simply that he just knew Keith was made for him. Shiro deserved so much more.

But so did he. 

Keith growled, tugging his boots off after dinner and yanking the zippers so hard, they caught on the fabric of his pants. He was no golden ray of sunshine like his mate. He was not the ideal omega. At times, he barely felt like an omega at all. His manners and behavior had always lacked something to be desired. He was moody, aggressive, cold--everything a proper, loving omega should not be. For all those traits he was short of, he was still compassionate and doting in his own ways. To the untrained eye, to those who did not know him, his adoration was difficult to see, but Shiro knew--he _knew_ \--how much Keith worshiped him. If his mate had asked him to crawl on his belly through glass, he would have done it. If Shiro had said 'jump' and truly wanted to hear him say 'how high?', he would have spoken. For Shiro, he would have forgotten his pride. 

And how had he his devotion been rewarded? He seethed thinking of it, discarding his civilian clothes and pulling on his Blade uniform. Love repaid in abandonment. Not once, not twice, not thrice--five times. He shook his head, loose hair falling in front of his eyes. Maybe he was not worthy of loyalty. 

_Stop it_.

He would not think that. Piping up from the very back of his mind, often buried beneath his self-loathing, was his sense of rationality. None of this had any bearing on his self-worth, the voice said, gentle but firm. Without Shiro's loyalty, without his friends' support, without family, he still had one thing: himself. It had been enough for years. He had learned to stand on his own. Should the rest of the universe turn their back on him, he would be fine. His heart might break, he might have to rebuild his life from scratch, but he could survive. 

"Could always take up bounty hunting." he mumbled quietly, grabbing up his sword and strapping it to his back.

As far as fallback plans went, he could do worse.

\-------------------------

Shiro felt all out of sorts. Emotions were raging like a storm inside of him; one moment his anger won, the next anguish dominated him. The tumult was exhausting and he could barely find the energy to get out of bed, much less take up his role as leader. Thankfully, they were on a bit of a hiatus, orbiting idly by some quiet planets. It gave his nerves some time to recover.

He was certain--or he had at least convinced himself--that Keith had not meant what he had said. Words were not his mate's strong suit and when cornered, Keith spat whatever venom he could. He had earned some censure, he conceded, but that last cut had nearly killed him. Every waking second, he thought of that blistering insult. The only thing he was good at... As if he had wanted to leave his mate behind. Leaving Keith was the last thing he desired, but somehow they always ended up torn apart. If he were honest with himself, Shiro understood where his mate's doubts came from. 

Regardless of understanding, Keith had gone a step too far with that declaration. A crushing weight landed upon him and he took to his bed, wallowing meekly. The only thing that could compel Shiro to move was the smell of his mate and as soon as he caught the scent of Keith moving in the hall, he launched to his feet and stumbled into the corridor. Keith ignored him, continuing on his way towards the bridge. Shiro let his eyes wander, gaze moving down the man's back, watching the sway of his braided hair, to his slim waist, tight backside, and long lean legs. The suit had been modified, he was certain, taken in around the middle to squeeze the wearer's sides flat. He did not remember Keith having such a profoundly obvious waist or such wide hips. They were childbearing hips, his alpha side purred, all prior distress forgotten in the face of arousal.

"Shut up." He growled at himself, slamming his palm against his temple to dislodge the devious voice. What was wrong with him...

The crack of flesh upon flesh made Keith pause, turning his head slightly. As he had expected, his mate was running to catch up to him. He groaned, wishing he had not stopped; his mood had not improved at all and he did not wish to lash out at Shiro while in a blind rage. He regretted his last outburst dearly; he did not wish to add to his list of regrets. 

To his credit, Shiro stopped short several feet and did not reach for him; he had learned better.

"Where are you going?" the man asked timidly.

Keith stared at the wall, pursing his lips, considering remaining mute. The weight of Shiro's gaze was heavy on his shoulders and the longer he remained silent, the more earnest the man became. Another second more and he might start whining, Keith thought.

"Out." was all he offered.

"Out?" 

There was nowhere to go 'out' to. As soon as they had docked the lions, he had given the order to leave the solar system, wishing to put the memory of that foul kingdom as far from his mind as possible. He had offered nothing to the lord when they left, save a few vague thanks and a muddled speech of how important it was to have allies in the fight against the empire. The lord had not made any overture of directly aiding the rebellion and he had not made any commitment to return. That, he hoped, would be where they left the matter. 

"Out where?" he probed, daring to take a step closer.

Keith's eyes flashed dangerously, stalling him. 

"To a gathering." 

"A gathering?"

"Yes." he snapped, annoyed at the man's willful deafness. "There's a score of galra soldiers about. I want to say hello."

Shiro had not thought his mood could get any worse, but his spirits sank even further, dipping into a place of murky blackness. "You mean you're going to hunt alphas."

At last Shiro got it. With a firm nod, he turned on his heel and continued on. A split second later he heard Shiro's heels clacking after him. 

"Don't go."

"Don't follow me, Shiro, I'm in a bad mood."

"I don't want you to go." the man implored, desperation in his voice.

The tone was what made Keith pause. He clenched his fists, fighting to keep himself in check. When Shiro circled him, attempting to gain eye contact, he turned his face away.

"Please go away." he ground out, a hint of a plea in his tone. "I am _mad_ and I do not want to take it out on you again."

That was a small relief to Shiro, but he would not be put off until Keith abandoned his plan to slip off and hunt. "Please."

"I am doing this, whether you like it or not, Shiro."

"Why?" he couldn't understand. He _wanted_ to understand. He wanted to know everything that passed through his mate's head. They had been in sync once; they knew each other's thoughts and had never had to ask for the meaning behind the other's actions. Over the course of his disappearance, they had become strangers and they made careless missteps around one another far too regularly. They would drive each other insane shortly. 

It was baffling how far they had fallen. Their relationship had been strained at times before his most recent capture, but he thought some of the tension was from the discovery of Keith's inability to get pregnant. Given the stance Keith had had about pregnancy the first several years they knew each other, he had been surprised how badly the man had taken the news. Maybe it should not have been so surprising; he had been equally disappointed. 

Conversation had dried between them for a time. Even so, Keith had remained by his side, quiet, resigned, but constant and affectionate. And then that damned raid happened...

Shiro shook his head, banishing the memories. "Are you doing this just to hurt me?"

Keith turned to him, brows furrowed. "Yes." he admitted. 

Shiro felt his heart plummet. Here they were. The worst place any couple could be: reduced to acting out of spite. 

"And...because I want to hurt myself."

"What do you--"

"I'm going now. I'll talk to you--tomorrow."

He was not given the opportunity to ask further questions; Keith turned and hastily walked away. If he had wanted to catch the man, Shiro knew he could have. His pride still stung, alpha voice spitting angrily, but he ignored it as best he could. Whether Keith had meant to or not, the man had offered him a glimpse into the workings of his mind. He wanted to hurt himself, Keith had said. Shiro frowned, pondering that peculiar statement. It was a cry for help, if ever he heard one.

For days he had turned over the disastrous meeting and their subsequent verbal battle. It hadn't really been a battle, Shiro thought with an annoyed huff; Keith exploded and he rolled over to the man's anger. He had deserved some of it. He still shivered, thinking of Keith telling him to disappear. It was the only thing he was good at, he had said. The words echoed in his head, a broken record of pain he forced himself to listen to and dissect. 

Agonizing as it was to replay the episode repeatedly in his mind, Shiro had managed to uncover a few crucial details that hinted at Keith's true turmoil. 

" _It's the only thing you're good at_."

Shiro growled softly. Keith might want to hurt him--and he could abide by that for a short time longer--but he would not tolerate self-destructive behavior. Whatever this hunting business had started out as, whether it was beneficial or not, tonight would surely be different. Keith was not going out to scout for information, he was going out to vent. Only an idiot walked into a den of bears with an attitude and expected matters to go well. And only a bigger idiot let said idiot proceed. He was not so stupid.

\-----------------

By the time Shiro arrived on the bridge, Keith had departed and arrived at his destination. A camera feed had been set up inside of the bar, giving Pidge an insider's view of all that happened. She looked up upon his entrance, brows lifting in surprised. For a moment it appeared as if she might attempted to hide what she was about, but abandoned the idea quickly after, realizing that he had already seen the feed. 

"Is anyone with him?" Shiro asked calmly, going to his seat and watching as Keith chatted quietly with a tall galra standing behind what appeared to be a bar. 

Pidge glanced at him, still uncertain of his presence. "Lance is there."

"Lance."

"Lance always goes with him. A long range fighter is useful--although unneeded. Keith can handle himself."

Shiro grunted. He had seen the blade on the man's back. He was still not convinced. 

For a long while nothing of note happened. Keith cast his eyes about, searching for a target, anyone willing to welcome him into their circle. It would happen soon, Shiro knew. An omega walking into a pack of alphas would not be tolerated quietly for long. His fingers thrummed against the armrest, beating out his calming one, two, three rhythm. It was not working now, but at least his hands were not idle. 

He broke the silence as they waited. "Are you still mad at me?"

"A little." Pidge did not look over. "You blundered that mission big time."

"None of you offered an explanation. I was willing to listen, but no one said anything." 

He had plenty more grievances to air about their lack of communication regarding why that planet was of use to them, why he didn't even get a slight warning of the intolerable behavior towards omegas, the inconsistencies of the degradation they were willing to endure to get what they needed--too many insults. He grew angry every time he thought of it. Sometimes, when he listened to his baser voice, he wondered if they were all setting him up to fail, sabotaging him as their leader. It was a stupid, paranoid thought, but he could not deny how difficult it was, leading them now. Their miscommunication or utter lack of communication seemed deliberate. His tapping increased in fervor. 

Shiro had offered a fair criticism, Pidge relented. "I know. I suppose we all failed Keith there."

"Keith has to shoulder some responsibility as well. He could have spoken up in his defense."

"True..." She frowned, looking to Shiro and finding his face strained. "You know he has trouble talking now."

Oh, Shiro had noticed. Long before they had gotten to the point of screaming at each other in frustration, he had struggled to get a word out of Keith. The first days of his return had been a new form of torture with his mate standing by his side and unwilling--or unable--to speak. Keith was far worse than he had been on earth. For weeks he had thought that he had offended his mate with some thoughtless word or deed, but the more he observed, he realized that Keith had simply withdrawn. 

His eyes flicked to Pidge, who had returned her attention to the feed. After the visions he saw of Prince Lotor, he was disgustingly certain he knew why Keith had withdrawn from the world and curled in upon himself. Did the others know, though? 

Pidge's fingers clacked against her keyboard, zooming in on the screen as a galra approached. Shiro shifted uncomfortably as he watched the giant grasp Keith by the arm for his attention. 

"Alright," Pidge adjusted the screens, "the hunt is on."

_Tap, tap, tap_. If nothing else would come of that night, Shiro would at least be able to see what took place during these hunting trips.

\-------------

The grip on his arm was bruising, but gentle by galra standards. A suitor already; Keith was feeling lucky. He wasn't always successful; some galra were allured by his unique blood, others repelled. The mixed reactions caused him to wonder if he was considered attractive by galra standards. It was a bit of a leading question to ask one of the Blade members, so he resigned himself to quiet contemplation. Perhaps he would ask this one. He grinned up at the man--never smile at a galra, he had learned. Be too meek and he would no longer be enrapturing, but expendable. 

A short, gruff discussion later and he was seated at a round table with three galras, dressed in their military armor. They were of the scaly sort, with sharp ridges upon their heads and black talons carved to deadly points. His own nails were blunt, his teeth unimpressive, size diminutive in comparison, but he did have his blade. The soldiers eyed it once, amused to see such a bold weapon on a tiny omega.

"For protection." he said simply when one inquired after the reason for it. "I can't be too careful. I _am_ an omega after all."

That earned him an amused chuckled.

"Not many omegas would just walk in here. It would be asking for trouble." The largest galra leaned forward, pinning Keith with his golden eyes. 

He met the threat with another grin. "I am not a typical omega--and I can handle trouble just fine."

\-------------------

There were so many turbulent emotions fighting for dominance within Shiro's mind, he did not know what he currently felt. Anger? Betrayal? Jealousy? Everything swirled in his mind, a chaotic tempest that squashed all rational thought. He dug his nails into the armrest, his frantic tapping no longer able to calm him. 

That was _his_ mate, his alpha id snarled. No other alpha should even look at Keith, much less touch him. When the looming soldier had grabbed Keith by the arm and started pulling him aside, Shiro thought he might roar. That was not allowed. No one touched his mate; he had laid down that foundation within a week of knowing Keith. His classmates and fellow alphas had learned quickly when he cracked them upside the head. Anyone foolish enough to lay a finger on Keith had to answer to him.

These monsters would not know that though; his rage was wasted. Worse--Keith was encouraging them.

\-------------

He leaned his chin into the palm of his hand, feigning innocence. "What am I doing here?" Keith echoed the question one of the galra had growled at him. He was getting under their skin. It was happening much sooner than he had anticipated, but he was determined to drag this hunt out as long as he could. "I'm just...looking for an alpha."

The air shifted abruptly; interest turned suddenly to arousal. Keith shifted, a nervous little tremor twisting his guts. Grinning knowingly, he pushed his anxiety aside and leaned forward.

"Is that so strange?"

One of the soldiers, the one who had first approached, leaned in as well. "You reek of alpha already. You're clearly mated. Why search for another one?"

He hadn't expected that. Was Shiro's scent so strong on him? Keith did not know how that happened to be, but he shrugged his shoulders casually, as if it were unimportant. 

"I have a mate--that doesn't mean I'm satisfied."

The smells grew stronger. A few choice words and they were near to drooling. 

"Your alpha doesn't _satisfy_ you?" the galra to his left asked, taking an obvious sniff. 

Keith sighed dramatically. "Not at all. He doesn't understand my needs--and I have many."

"A needy omega." A snort. "How needy?"

"I'm no more needy than any other healthy omega." To punctuate his point, he slapped his thigh, cutting the air with a loud crack. 

One thing that was obvious to every alpha he had encountered was how 'healthy' he was. He was built well, a bird-like alpha had once told him, staring hungrily at his hips. That, Keith could not deny. Despite how tiny he had been upon first joining Voltron, he had grown into a strong, sturdy omega. Years of building muscle had given him the body alphas lusted for--especially galra alphas. His hips had grown wider, to his chagrin, but that worked to his benefit at times like this. 

Strong build, wide hips, firm, full thighs--he was a picture of the perfect omega. He was built for breeding and pushing out kits.

The eyes of the first galra lingered upon his thigh, watching Keith's hand as it traveled from thigh, to hip, to belly. "How needy?" he repeated, voice a low tremble. 

Keith hummed, as if thoughtful. "I have desires like every other omega: the desire to love, to be held, to rut, to be knotted." They stared at him, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He had them. A push more and he would have them exactly where he wanted them. "My alpha hasn't taken me for a very long while. I've been without the touch of an alpha for months."

He waited. Surprisingly, nothing happened. 

Not enough, he realized. They were still staring, clearly aroused and wanting, but hesitating for some reason. It was more restraint than he was used to seeing from alphas. Perhaps it had to do with Shiro's scent still lingering on him; he hadn't ever smelled of alpha before one of his hunts. 

He forced a grin, knowing what had to be said, though it made him sick to say it. "He hasn't even given me a litter."

Eyes sparked with interest. "You have no litter?"

Keith shook his head sadly. That emotion he did have to feign. "No litter. Not a one. I'm well into my breeding years and my belly has never been full; I've never felt a child squirming in my stomach; I've never carried once; I've never given birth."

He was wholly unspoiled in that aspect. That made him a rare find. The only reason he didn't have a child, had never experienced parenthood, was because his body was flawed, but they would not know that. He had the body to carry and birth kits; that was all that could be seen and all that needed to be known. 

As expected, his words stirred his table mates into a frenzy. They saw exactly what he wished them to see: a vulnerable omega, in desperate need of a good rutting from an alpha strong enough to get a litter on him within the first go. Knowing what he did of alphas, Keith knew that his work was done. All he had to do was sit back and let the alphas battle it out among themselves.

\---------------

The alpha voice was roaring in Shiro's head, refusing to be ignored any longer. _Shut up, shut up, shut up!!_ Enough was enough. He had taken as much abuse as he could stomach quietly. Matters had gotten far out of hand in his absence. It was time he put his foot down. He understood Keith's pain. He knew well how appealing self-destructing activities were. Understanding was one thing; he refused to allow it to continue on any longer. His entire team was lost. What may have started out as safe ventures for information had turned into the spectacle playing out before him. He would not allow the team to enable Keith's self-destruction any longer.

Pidge looked over as he stood, face dark and stony.

"I--I don't know what's happening." she said quickly. "He's never said things like that before."

"He's saying it because he knows I'm watching." Shiro accused. Keith was nothing if not purposeful. 

That did not seem likely, but she understood why Shiro felt as such. Pidge looked back to the screen, frowning at the image of Keith, slouching provocatively in his seat as the three alphas bickered among themselves. That was not the Keith she knew; that man was a far cry from the leader she remembered. Something had changed within him upon Shiro's return. They all sensed it, but none of them could sort out just what it was that had happened. 

A few bumps in the road were expected, given the length of Shiro's confinement. When they had learned that Shiro was sleeping in a different room and the two were, for all intents and purposes, separated, they were all at a loss. How was it possible that they had exerted all of that effort, spent all of that time, to find Shiro and now that their efforts were rewarded Keith cut him off? It didn't make sense.

She should have reached out. She was an alpha; a weak one perhaps, but an alpha all the same. Over the years, she and Keith had established a unique friendship the likes of which she had never seen before between an alpha and omega. They shared a mutual sense of love and respect for each other. They were, despite their roles, equals. She could have soothed him. It was possible for alphas and omegas to be friends, she was sure--she had just never seen it. 

"Shiro, I think you should---Shiro?"

The bridge was empty. 

She couldn't blame the man for leaving; had she been in his shoes, she wouldn't have wanted to listen to her mate spew insults about her virility and ability to sate a mate. And to see the interested reactions of other alphas... All things, considered, Shiro had taken it well. She had smelled his anger across the room, but he had not shown any outward signs of his displeasure.

Sighing, she turned back to the feed and threaded her fingers together. "Alright, Keith...reign it in..."

\-----------------

Lance wanted a drink. He glanced to the bar, wondering if he had enough gact on his person to buy even a cheap, piss tasting beer. His presence wasn't really needed--Keith handled himself well when he hunted. He just brought the sharpshooter for emergency backup. If he had a little drink, it wouldn't hurt. In fact, it might improve his aim a bit. Maybe he would play a round of darts or the galra equivalent while he waited for Keith to get what he was after.

_What the hell_ , Lance thought, taking a step towards the bar. He was bored out of his mind.

He narrowly missed the bar door slamming open, putting up an arm just in time to save his face from a painful hit. Hissing angrily, he slammed the door shut and reached for the man that had entered, ready to give him a piece of his mind. He paused before his hand could touch the man's shoulder. 

"Oh, shit--"

\---------------------------------

Keith had just begun chewing on the rim of his glass, showing off his tiny canines in a display that was far more cute than coy, when he caught scent of something unexpected. 

"Christ--!" He nearly toppled the drink over as he jerked upright, placing his feet firmly on the floor. He held a momentary feeling of fear, reminding him of his childhood, when he was up to no good and his father would catch him. Scrambling to hide the evidence had never saved him from a firm reprimand and punishment. 

There was no hiding anything now, not when he suspected that Shiro had been watching the feed of his hunt. Attempting to outmaneuver the fall of judgment was a waste of time. He could pretend that he was not so unprepared though. His company eyed him curiously as he smoothed a hand through his hair, tightly shutting his thighs together, and hummed a high note of pleasure. The note wavered though, coming out somewhere between shocked joy and wary surprise.

The galra immediately began snarling when the man drew to the side of the table. An alpha was still an alpha and even a small, human one raised their ire. He was a threat to their claim. Shiro paid them no mind, fixing his stern gaze upon his mate.

Keith swallowed, fighting to maintain his mask. He had not seen such outrage in the man's eyes in a long while. Even when he had viciously declared that he wanted Shiro to disappear, Shiro had appeared heartbroken, not angry. Indeed, the following display the man had put on spoke of defeat. Not a hint of anger, which Keith knew he had amply earned. He wanted to frown and blurt some useless apology, but it was neither the time nor the place. This was a hunt and he could not afford to show any weakness, lest he wished to end up on his knees.

"Alpha." he purred pleasantly. "Am I in your seat?"

A low growl rumbled from the man's chest, a deep, threatening timbre the likes of which put Keith on edge. He had miscalculated. _Idiot_ , he scolded himself. Well, he had wanted to hurt himself. There was no doubting the pain soon to come. He was no longer dealing with Shiro, his mate. He was dealing with the alpha. 

" _Move_."

He swallowed thickly at the command, moving to obey a split second later. Casting a nervous glance to Lance, who stood tense in the corner of the bar, he unfurled from the chair and stood. Instinct demanded he run and get to a safe place, but that was not an option. Shiro took his place, sitting and staring levelly at the three soldiers. 

A plethora of smells and threatening grunts and growls were volleying around and Keith wanted nothing to do with it. Suddenly, he doubted his own sanity. He shouldn't have come. He was stupid to think this was a fine idea. If he had needed a great dawning of clarity to set him straight, he had received it. Easing back a step, he turned towards the door and made to flee. 

Shiro's arm came around his waist suddenly, drawing him back and down onto the man's thigh. He fell into place with a startled yelp, bracing himself on Shiro's knee. It was hardly a comfortable position, with his legs on either side of Shiro's thigh, his parts pressed tightly to the man's leg. Shifting to seek a better position did little more than earn him a warning growl. He huffed back in annoyance and Shiro's head snapped to glower at him. 

_Don't disrespect the alpha in front of others--especially other alphas_ , his inner id warned, though it too quivered in uncertainty. 

Rather than fight, which would undoubtedly end in some dire display of subjugation on his end, he leaned back, easing off Shiro's thigh as much as possible. Wrapping an arm around the man's sturdy shoulders helped, although he was not keen on being forced so close. Shiro's arm remained tight around his middle, anchoring him and preventing escape. 

One of the galra made the mistake of reaching for him amidst a scathing jab at Shiro, belittling his stature and alleged alpha failings. The barbs Shiro might have endured, but as soon as the hand approached, he had yanked Keith fully onto his lap, an arm around his waist and the other gripping his neck tightly.

The grip was like a vice and Keith grimaced, restraining a grunt of pain. Pressed as he was to the man's side, he could _taste_ Shiro's pheromones. They were sour and bitter, tasting of hostility and rage. He convulsed, jerking against the man's neck.

This wasn't right. Keith pushed at the man's chest, writhing desperately for freedom. That smell was not right. It should not have been there. That was not his Shiro's scent. Upon Shiro's return, he had immediately sensed the change in his mate's scent, his musk having grown softer, sweeter even. It was to be expected after whatever torture the man had suffered. Beneath the gentle smell though was something else, something chemical that reeked of insidious intentions. He recognized the scent and it was not Shiro, it was evil. 

Those were not smells that belong on Shiro. His Shiro was kind, loving, understanding, patient as a saint. He was incapable of having a malicious thought. Keith had shied away from the dark smell, even though it also meant shying away from his mate. Try as he might, he could not separate the scent of abuse from the loving countenance of his mate. The conflicting smells very nearly drove him mad. 

Shiro caught him before he could worm away, gripping him firmly enough to bruise. It was too familiar. Caught, snared, unable to free himself. And the smell...it was the same. Why did Shiro smell like that? It was more potent now than it had ever been; he could no longer deny the source of the smell.

Keith whimpered and began to quake, drawing the man's attention with his pathetic cowering. "...Lotor?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alpha. No additional summary needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boss let me go early for the holiday weekend, so early posting!
> 
> All I can say is...hang on guys! It's always darkest before the dawn.

A bottle of some sort whizzed by Keith's ear, smashing against the wall and covering them in fizzing liquid. Instinctively, Lance reached a hand out, covering both his head and Keith's. It had been a good while since they had been in a bar brawl. Very quickly, Lance recalled why they avoided getting entangled in such messes.

"It is time to leave." Keith declared, hands pressed tightly to his head to prevent any assault from wayward projectiles. 

Lance laughed loudly, a nervous sound. "Gee, ya think?"

What had started as a verbal spat at their table had turned into a physical altercation, tumbling into another table. The letting of blood had lit a fuse and all of the tension in the room had ignited. There was hardly a man present not entrenched in some battle. Worse, they were alpha battles. Although Lance might not have entirely understood why alphas battling was worse than a normal brawl, Keith was confident in his ability to read how dire and dangerous the atmosphere was for them. 

As they ducked and wove through the melee, making for the exit, Lance looked over his shoulder at him.

"What did you _do_?!"

Keith made a pitiful sound, barely able to piece it together himself. One moment Shiro was digging his fingers into his side, commanding him to stay, the next moment he had wrenched himself free and was fleeing an alpha match. Someone had taken a hit, he knew. Were they the same people they had been three years ago, Keith would have been sure that his mate had taken the blow. This time, it was he who shed the first drop of blood; the alpha was out and he was fiercely territorial. 

At the door, Lance paused, turning and taking in the spectacle. "Should we get Shiro?"

"Fuck, no!" Keith grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him outside, ignoring his friend's dirty look. If Lance thought him calloused, then so be it. When they got to safety, he could explain how dangerous an alpha with bloodlust was. 

They stumbled out the door, narrowly missing becoming the targets of thrown garbage. The smash of the door closing behind them cut off the worst of the noise, but they could still hear the grunts and screams of fierce battle, accompanied by a cacophony of smashing bottles and furniture. 

"Holy hell," Lance took a deep breath, "that was so uncool."

"Let's just get out of here, _now_ , before the fighting spills out here."

"But Shiro--"

"Is an alpha. He can take care of himself." To say nothing of the fact that Shiro had instigated the entire barroom brawl by dealing the first blow. 

Regardless of his personal feelings, Lance trusted his friend's judgment. Cold as he was, Keith would not leave his mate to be torn apart by galra hands; if he said Shiro would be fine, he would believe him. Nodding firmly, he started towards the ship when the doors burst open and a pair of scrabbling fighters fell to the ground. 

"Pick up the pace!" Lance barked, breaking into a run. They would not have long before they were overrun.

Almost as soon as he had spoken, a window shattered and more bodies began spilling out. A litany of curses sang through his mind as he prayed they made it off the planet safely. He had jumped into the cockpit without thinking, the engine already started when he heard Keith yelp. Lance looked to his side; he was alone. He hadn't even noticed that he had gotten ahead of the other man.

"Shit, Keith!" 

Instinctively, he pulled his gun free, settling his sights on... 

"Shiro?"

"Go!" The man snapped, adjusting his hold around Keith's waist and pulling him away from Lance.

Lance looked between the two, lost, uncertain. Were he to judge by the panicked expression on Keith's face and the frantic way he tried to pry Shiro's arms off, he would say it was time to intervene. He took a step closer, gun lowered, but Keith's eyes snapped to his.

"No! Just--go!"

"But--"

"Go!" Keith cried, immediately followed by a warning growl from Shiro.

Lance did not want to leave his side, he could see it in his friend's face, but Keith was not certain he could keep them both safe with Shiro in the state he was in. His alpha was in a rage. Even fighting with all his strength, he was unable to keep Shiro from pulling him away, towards his own ship. Fear for his safety lent him the strength to deliver a stunning kick to the man's shin, causing Shiro to drop him. He barely made it a step before Shiro's arms came around him again, pinning his own arms to his side.

"Don't make me chase you!" Shiro warned, the tips of his teeth grazing against his neck.

A chase would end very badly for him. The thought of it, of being hunted and run down, made Keith submit. He was all but thrown into the ship and he crammed himself to the side, as far away from Shiro as he could get. Crazed as the man was, there was still a part of Shiro aware of their surroundings enough to see the demand to leave. Unfortunately, that meant that he was alone with his alpha in a confined space. The smells rolling off of his mate had only grown more horrible after the fight. 

_Not him_ , Keith soothed himself. It was not the prince. It was Shiro. The smell was just...in his head. His fantasies had been running mad for the past months. It was all in his head. 

"You called for him."

Keith flinched at the menacing tone and the slow, deliberate way the man drew out his words. "What?" he all but whimpered.

"You. Called. For. _Him_." 

Shiro snarled and Keith reached for his blade, gripping the hilt fiercely. 

"I-I didn't _call_ for him. I would never--"

"You did!"

When Shiro's gaze snapped to him, narrow and threatening, he pressed as tightly as he could against the side of the ship. Shiro would never hurt him, he was certain...but he would have rather jettisoned himself into space to hurtle to his death than spend another second trapped with the alpha. 

"Shiro, _please_." He struggled to think of a plea that might reach his mate. In the throes of an alpha rage, he wasn't sure what words might reach the man and move him to pity. Failing to find words, he tried instead to communicate his deep agitation through scent. 

His message was received, but not taken well. Shiro bared his teeth again, growling at him. The man held no concern over his mate's distress. Once he become the sole focus of Shiro's attention, it would be over for him. By sheer necessity, Shiro kept his eyes to the sky, keeping course to the castle. The storm was contained for the moment, but Keith knew that as soon as they were docked it would break and a whirlwind of suffering would land on his head.

He was nothing if not quick though. His galra blood worked in his favor. As soon as the ship had landed and the engines cut off, he threw the pod hatch open and leaped out. Shiro's fingers grazed the sole of his boot as he jumped; when the man failed to catch him, he cursed loudly and bellowed for him. 

Keith stumbled as his legs gave out upon hitting the floor, but he caught himself in a roll before he fell face first to the ground. The others were rushing over, having seen firsthand through the feed how dismally this hunt had turned, but he could not wait for their aid. Shiro had jumped from the pod and was circling, seeking him out. 

He could not be caught. Without hesitation, he bolted through the crowd of paladins, running as fast as his legs could carry him to the safety of his room. There was commotion at his back as Shiro prepared to give chase and was met with a wall of resistance. Lance placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to speak reason to him, but Shiro slapped the offending limb away. He shouldered his way past, but Hunk was quick to step up in his stead.

"You need to stop." he said firmly.

Shiro snarled, saliva dripping from his bared canines. "Get out of my way!"

"Dude!" Lance stepped forward again. "Chill; you're losing it!"

The alpha was howling like a banshee in his head; he would not be put off by this group of misfits, attempting to interfere. Keith could run and hide all he wanted; he would catch him. He would tear the damn door down to get to him, if need be. When the others refused to step aside, he pushed through them, a sliver of delight trembling in his chest as they tumbled at his strength. 

His triumph was short lived. Even as the three paladins regrouped and circled him, placing hands on him to restrain him, the princess entered, her aura cold and fierce. She stood before him, head held high, hackles raised. He returned the display, flexing his muscles and growling.

"Move, bitch." he warned.

She glowered venomously, but remained poised, as an alpha should in times of duress. "You are unwell."

"I said move!"

It was a great blow to his pride to learn that, when they wished, the paladins could stir their strength together and create a barrier so sturdy, even he could not move beyond it. Hands tugged at all parts of his body, voices coaxing and threatening him at the same time. He was losing; it was baffling. His team had turned against him and were forcing him apart from his mate.

His indignant roar echoed through the entirety of the castle, bouncing from wall to wall and slipping through cracks in the doors. Concealed as he was, crouched behind the secured door of the bathroom and bedroom, Keith could still hear the roar of fury. He doubled over his knees, clutching his blade with white knuckle desperation. 

"Not him." he whimpered to himself. "It's not him...not him. Shiro wouldn't--isn't--not him. Not him, not him, not him."

Another roar drew a strangled cry of alarm and he began rocking to and fro on the heels of his feet. Violent shivers wracked his frame as his shaking hand clutched his blade.

"Not him." He repeated the manta over and over. "Not him, not him, not him. Please, god, don't let it be him..."

\--------

The pain refused to leave. A band of intense, throbbing agony wrapped around his head, from temple to temple, squeezing viciously until all thoughts crumbled beneath its crushing grip. Shiro tossed onto his back, hand swiping at the pool of sweat upon his brow. He felt as if his body was on fire, burning furiously from the inside out. Beneath him, the sheets were damp, sticking to his bare legs. Sweat had bled through his shirt within an hour and he had thrown it to the floor, hoping to alleviate himself of some of the stifling heat. Alas, he feared he was deep in the throes of some wild fever. 

Turning again, he slammed his head into the pillow, groaning at the splitting pain. Whatever had possessed him earlier was banging on his skull, demanding freedom, desperately scratching and clawing its way out. He squeezed his head between his palms, praying that the pain would lessen. He could contain the beast. However it had gotten in his head, he would keep it there, imprisoned as he had been. 

"Shut up..."

It had never been so vocal before, one moment howling in indignation at the top of its lungs, the next snarling and cursing like a demon. The ferocity of its indignation was overshadowed only by the chilling demands it made. Blood should be spilled, it ordered, from friend and foe alike. If its will was not heeded, it would enforce it. No one, and it did mean no one, would be safe from the wrath of its punishment. When he refused to bend to its demands, the monster offered up vivid, bloody images of the results of its ire. 

Shiro pulled on his shock of hair until the roots screamed and threatened to give. "Shut up! You won't--!"

Spears of pain continued to lance his brain, the voice screaming on. When no adamant declaration of his own would silence the voice, he slammed the heel of his palm against his temples repeatedly, begging whatever deity was listening to end his suffering and pull the thorny demon from his head. 

He had been escorted back to his room a few short hours ago after being restrained.He had been lost to a rage too dangerous to allow him to roam free. The beast had quieted when he was shackled, the monster unable to rise above his fears. As soon as he had been released though, it returned with vengeance.   
As the night wore on, the voice only grew more insistent, the images darker and more dire. If the beast was not sated soon, Shiro feared what it would do.   
When sleep would not come, he took to pacing the cramped confines of his room, running his clammy hands over his face, pulling at his hair and slapping the side of his head when the voice whispered something particularly heinous. 

He would not be broken by his own alpha nature. He had had urges before--never so strong and violent as this--but he had always restrained himself. Now would be no different, he swore to himself. He would force himself calm, collect his jumbled thoughts, and be better in the morning. Over the years, he had learned several techniques to ground himself, and he employed them then with a wild desperation the likes of which he had never felt before. Try as he did to remain calm, he could not help but fall into a panic when the voice roared back violently at each attempt he made to center himself. 

When his own methods failed, he thought it best to seek a bit of outside help. Tea always calmed him and Hunk had procured an impressive array of herbal leaves over their universal trooping. Somewhere in the stores, he knew he would find a calming herb, perhaps even one to aid with pain or sleeplessness. 

Padding back to his room with a scalding cup of tea, Shiro noted that the voice had grown quiet, reduced to the occasional snarl or peevish comment. He hadn't noticed when it happened, but he supposed that was because while preparing his tea he had been thinking of Keith. No, he frowned at himself; that wasn't entirely true. Keith was present in his thoughts, but mostly he was thinking of himself and his own reactions to his mate's well played acting that night. He wasn't proud of his own behavior; letting the alpha take control had placed them all in danger. Worse, he had terrified Keith, sending him scurrying to the safety of his room. 

Shiro paused, taking a long drink from his mug, ignoring the burn of the tart tea as it splashed down his throat. If he had been allowed, he would have gone to his mate and tried to sooth him. The alpha refused to allow it though, egging him on to some violent end until he had to be given a sedative. Going to Keith while that animal was out would have caused more harm than good. Still, he wished--

A shrill wail rent the silence. The hall erupted into a fit of terrified screaming, echoing off the walls and vibrating in his ears. His blood ran cold, recognizing that it was his mate who cried out. Dropping the mug, he sprinted to the far end of the hall. At his back, he could hear doors sliding open as the other paladins tumbled out to investigate. He was quicker than all of them, skidding to a halt before the door and slamming his palm on the key console until it opened. 

"Keith!" He stumbled inside. 

Hastily scanning the room, he saw no enemies, only his mate, tearing wildly at the air in his sleep. Rushing over, he grabbed the man's wrists to restrain him, fearing that he may hurt himself.

"Keith, wake up!"

The screaming increased with fervor as Keith pulled at his arms. His feet joined in the assault, kicking blindly at whatever tormentor loomed behind his closed lids. A lucky strike to Shiro's abdomen took the breath from him and he almost lost his grip on the man. He pressed back with increased strength, pinning Keith to the bed with his weight. The next kick that came close was deflected by his knee and he used his leverage to press Keith's thigh to the bed, preventing further assault.

"Stop it! Stop! Get off!"

"Keith! Wake--!"

His plea ended abruptly in a strangled cough as his arms were grabbed and he was hauled off of Keith's flailing body. Caught off guard as he was, Hunk was able to throw him across the room. He slipped, falling to one knee as he steadied himself. The others had rushed in, taking his place at Keith's side as he howled and cried. While Lance and Pidge wrestled against Keith's thrashing limbs, Hunk turned to him, pinning him with an icy expression. The accusation was bold and clear.

Shiro blanched, getting to his feet and staring in dismay. "Hunk, you don't think that _I_ did--"

"Out of the way!"

Hunk's condemning gaze swung away as Coran and Allura rushed into the room, pushing them all aside. Keith's manic flailing only increased, his panic blind, senses dulled to anything but gnawing, consuming terror. The princess placed a soothing hand on his shoulder and he screeched, as if burned. Allura jumped back at the hateful reaction. Her moving created enough space for Keith to lurch to the floor, bawling wildly as he crawled towards some unseen haven of safety. They stared on, mute and dazed.

Shiro placed a hand over his mouth, staring in wide eyed shock at the pathetic state his mate was in. He needed to go over and ease whatever suffering Keith was enduring. His alpha id agreed, berating him for his softness at allowing interlopers to step between him and his mate. 

Coran knelt by Keith's side, placing a hand hesitantly on his back. When the man convulsed, screaming as if the touch brought him pain, he turned to the others.

"Everyone should leave. You too, Princess; I fear having an alpha in here will do harm."

"Of course." Allura nodded firmly, turning to the paladins and ordering them out. She placed her hands on Pidge's shoulders, steering her to the door. They left with great reluctance, but matters were clearly out of their hands. As they passed Shiro, she paused. He would not be moved so easily. "Come, Shiro. Coran knows what to do."

Shiro shook his head. "No. I'm staying."

"It's better for Keith if you leave."

"I'm his mate."

"He needs to rest."

"He needs _me_!"

Suddenly they were snarling at one another. He allowed the princess to dictate much of what they did, not just because she was an alpha, but because they resided in her ship and piloted her lions. A certain amount of respect was due. But he would not be moved on this point. She leaned forward, teeth bared, and he met the challenge, drawing himself to his full height and snarling. Pidge darted forward, hoping to intervene before they came to blows, but another shrill cry shook them apart. 

"Please!" Coran bellowed at them, a hint of irritation in his tone. "Leave! Now!"

Using Keith's cry as a distraction, the two female alphas dragged him from the room, pushing him down the hall despite his mad declarations that Keith needed him. When he took a step forward, intent on going back, the two stepped in his path. If he did not listen, Allura threatened, she would lock him in a room until he was calmer. 

The threat had the intended effect. Desperate as he was to be by his mate's side, he was not willing to be held captive and shackled yet again. The very thought silenced his snapping id, summoning suffocating memories of dark rooms and silence. Satisfied, Allura ordered him to the other end of the castle. When Keith was ready to be tended to by the rest of the team, they would be summoned.

For hours he waited, pacing the length of the bridge, retreating to the hangar to confide his fears in Black, then returning again to the bridge, begging for any news. Everywhere he went, eyes followed; Hunk's accusing stare, Allura's threatening gaze, Lance and Pidge's concerned faces, even Black seemed to be watching him, peering into his mind and plucking at the corners of his subconscious to discover what was there. Her intrusion into the personal plains of his mind was unwanted, so he remained on the bridge; wary looks and unspoken allegations were easier to deal with than a sentient robeast tearing into his mind and baring his soul. 

Hours ticked by. One by one the others returned to their rooms to rest. He was not permitted to leave; Allura forbade it, insisting that even a few doors down Keith would surely feel his presence. Shiro did not doubt it; Keith had always had keen senses and was able to seek him out with unerring accuracy, even miles away. So he waited. Slouched uncomfortably in his seat upon the bridge, with no company but Allura's cold presence, he waited. The summons never came.

\---------------------------------

For once, words were not coming easily to Lance. He shifted uneasily, eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other, as if looking directly at Keith might somehow set him off again. The man had tracked him down early in Blue's hangar, slipping in quietly and glancing over his shoulder nervously every few seconds. Whatever attack had occurred last night had lasting effects; even as they sat quietly on the lion's paw, Lance observed the way his friend's body shook involuntarily and how he drew his jacket about his shoulders tightly. 

Keith' s eyes remained downcast, staring despondently at the cup in his hands. Every few moments, the man would take a small sip, the glass quaking in his hands. Lance frowned, looking away before they made eye contact. He could not pretend that he did not recognize the pungent smell of the herbs floating in the tea. The leaves had been a boon of great worth, produced by a rare medicinal plant growing on a single planet. As thanks for Voltron's aid, the inhabitants had gifted them with saplings to grow and a bushel of dried leaves that could cure any number of ailments. Fortunately, they had grown skilled in battle and took fewer hits than in their youth, so the leaves found most frequent use as a crushed up salve for minor pains or steeped in tea. 

When used for tea, the leaves had a near narcotic effect, numbing the drinker and leaving them senseless. It alarmed Lance to see how cognizant Keith was, sipping casually at the tea. Even a few sips should have effected him in some way, whether his eyes began to droop or his body began relaxing and slouching. But, no, Keith was rigid as a pole, eyes wide, flitting about frantically. Lance supposed the man had built up a tolerance for the leaves; he had seen how often Hunk had prepared him a cup before bed. It would not surprise him if Keith had waited for them to leave the kitchen before slipping a few extra leaves in to ensure that he fell asleep. It never seemed to help though; Keith always joined them at breakfast with dark circles beneath his eyes and tired lines on his face.

Keith slurped loudly, coughing a second later.

"You okay?" Lance asked.

The man hesitated a moment. "I'm fine."

"Okay, but are you _okay_? I mean..." He trailed off, uncertain if he should ask about the previous night. If he were to judge by his friend's nervous ticks and convulsions, he would say Keith was not yet over the attack.

Keith looked at him, blinking tiredly. He knew what Lance was asking. Under different circumstances, he might have played dumb, acting as if he had not understood the question. There seemed little point to the charade then. 

"Okay...is a strong word."

If 'okay' was strong, Lance hesitated to know what word accurately reflected the man's mood. He fidgeted, turning a wrench over in his hands. 

"You don't have to talk about it."

He wasn't going to. He had questions. "What did Shiro tell you?"

"Huh?" Lance looked at him, actually looked him full in the face.

"About his capture." Keith clarified, expression imploring. "What did he say? He and I...never got around to talking about it."

"Oh." His face surely must have given away his cluelessness."I--he never told me anything."

"He didn't say anything?"

"Nothing." Lance shook his head. "I don't want to--this isn't an accusation against you, okay? I tried talking to him; I asked him if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it, but he said no. I asked often and he started to get irritated, so I dropped the issue. I figured that he would talk when he was ready or he would reach out to someone else. He only wanted to talk to you. He kind of had a one track mind. He wouldn't talk about anything but you. If he told anyone about what happened when he was a prisoner, it wasn't me."

Keith set his cup down with a loud thud, dropping his head into his hands. 

"My god..."

He had feared as much. Shiro's relentless desire for his company should have set off an alarm much earlier than it had. He had seen with his own eyes how the man spurned their teammates, refraining from joining conversations and offering only clipped opinions when called upon. It hadn't been unusual behavior, he reasoned. Shiro had withdrawn after captivity in similar circumstances. It was a staple of his PTSD; they all recognized the signs. Perhaps that was why the matter had been allowed to grow so out of hand; they had mistaken Shiro's aloofness for something else entirely.

"Do you know if he's spoken to _anyone_? Coran?" 

At Lance's sad shake of the head, he brought both hands to his face and dug his palms into the hollows of his eyes. This was his fault. If he had taken time to focus on Shiro's needs, he would have seen right away that the man was coming apart as badly as he was. If he had noticed, perhaps they could have spared themselves some pain. Perhaps they could have avoided this end.

Taking a deep breath and forcing it through his teeth in a huff, he fixed his friend with a fierce gaze. "Lance."

"Y-yeah?"

"I need you to promise me something."

He would come to regret this, Lance knew. Still, he nodded. "Alright. What is it?"

"Shiro needs help. He needs it _now_." 

"Okay...and this has to do with me how?"

Keith took another deep breath before turning and placing his hands on the man's shoulders. "You have to make sure that Shiro gets help. If he doesn't get help as soon as possible, you may lose him. Whatever is wrong with him, it's more than just his old trauma. Something is wrong with him. If--if you don't find out what it is soon--he might..."

Something was very wrong, Lance knew just by the halting, broken way Keith spoke. "What do you mean 'you' will lose him. You mean 'we'. He's your mate. You're the one that will lose him most. What are you--"

" _Please_ , promise me you'll help him."

"Keith, what are you going on about?!"

Keith snapped his mouth shut. Try as he might, he could not work up the courage to speak. He could not find adequate words to speak his thoughts. Taking a shuddering breath, he began again, turning towards the second matter of business he had with his friend.

"In the event that you lose Shiro, whether he goes mad or---I want you to take over as Head of Voltron."

Lance felt his stomach twist sharply. Without hesitation he blurted, "You're the Head of Voltron. You're the Black Paladin. If anything happens to Shiro--"

"You're more than capable of leading. You're not the same cocky, arrogant brat you used to be. I owe you more life debts than I can count. That means something. I trust you with my life, with Shiro's life, and with the life of the team." At the man's slack jawed stare, he tried to laugh. It fell flat between them. "What? You don't want to be the next Black Paladin?"

That was the very last thing Lance wanted. Over the years, having seen the torment his friends endured and knowing the dark history of the Black Paladin, he was fairly certain that that seat of power was cursed. There wasn't a single Black Paladin of record who hadn't suffered some great misfortune or misery. That was not a fate he wished for himself. 

Superstition aside, he did not understand where all of this talk of usurping the role of Black Paladin was coming from. Shiro would be fine. A little therapy, some medication, and he would be good as new, as he always was. Shiro was nothing if not resilient. And even if something _did_ happen to Shiro...

"I am so unqualified for that position and, no, I don't want it--why would you even think of placing that responsibility on me? If anything happened to Shiro and you, Allura would take over as Head of Voltron."

Keith conceded that that was likely true. "If she didn't though, you would be a good leader. Whatever you lack in tactic and skill, you make up for in your care for your teammates. In the end, that's all that matters."

"No, absolutely not. Put that burden on someone else. Besides, Blue and I love each other and there is no way in hell I am leaving her--and double besides, nothing will happen to Shiro--AND even if something did happen, you would be--"

Something clicked in his brain suddenly. Keith stared at him, brows drawn, expression pitying. 

"You--you're saying goodbye."

\----------------

Two days in isolation had quieted the beast enough for Shiro to gain his bearings. He had handled matters poorly, and that was a vast understatement. Although his memories of the hunt and subsequent flight from the bar were dim and fuzzy, he recalled certain moments with striking clarity. He remembered having Keith in his arms. He remembered his mate shaking violently-- _why???_ \--because of him. The memories grew less certain beyond that. There was a brawl, he knew that. Adrenaline was still pumping in his veins, days after the fact. That aside, he had a number of scratches and bruises he could not account for. Whatever had happened, he had taken a beating. If the state of his knuckles were any indication though, he had given just as well as he had gotten. He preferred not to dwell on his clashes with Allura. 

He was spent, physically and mentally. His concern for his mate had not left and there did not seem to be a moment of the day when he was not thinking of Keith and trying to piece together the mystery of the other night. After only a few minutes of pondering though, he needed to rest. Too many angry thoughts bombarded him, too many questions came to light...and that damned voice continually interrupted him. Whenever he felt close to a revelation, his alpha id butted in unwanted, growling about some slight his teammates had delivered. The voice was more exhausting than the mystery.

Truthfully, he wished he could stop thinking about Keith. His alpha id was obsessed with his mate and was most vocal when Keith was on his mind. If he could just have a moment of peace, he was certain that he could get some rest, clear the haze from his mind, and get a grip on himself. 

Sighing, he put his tablet aside and shut his eyes, sinking back into the plush chair. He was being derelict in his duties as leader; four solid months had passed and still he had not caught up on the happenings that had occurred in his absence. Pidge's careful summation of events had been left to sit while he toiled away like a love-struck fool. He needed to catch up. He needed to be a leader. At the moment though, he needed a nap.

As he sunk further and further into sleep, his thoughts and cares began to slip away. He felt light, free of burden. The painful tension in his muscles bled away and he relaxed into the chair, sighing blissfully. Peace at last...

The door slid open.

"God damn it, what do you want?" he snapped, screwing his eyes shut and refusing to open them.

There was a moment of hesitation.

"I'll come back."

Shiro's eyes popped open, sleep abandoned. "Keith?!" 

Before he could even think, he was on his feet, sprinting around the table. Panic sprang to Keith's eyes and he took a hesitant step back. The reaction stalled Shiro, reminding him again of the disastrous hunt, the hissing battle with Allura that followed, and the devastating scene of his mate crawling on the ground in hysteria. They stood a moment, staring at one another uncertainly.

Keith would not step forward, he knew, so he cleared his throat and did his best to avoid a prolonged awkward silence. "Did you need me?" He prayed so.

Slowly, Keith nodded. "I need to give you some things."

"Give me some things?" 

Again Keith nodded. After a slight hesitation, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and extended a tablet and a set of data drives. Shiro took them, frowning.

"What are these?"

"Catalogs. They have full reports of our missions, our strategies, planets and colonies on our side--everything you'll need to know. It's a lot to slog through, but that was never a problem for you."

Shiro turned one of the data drives over, reading the label. Keith's neat scrawl was crowded onto a white sticker, reading out 'Mission Reports'. A part of him, the dormant leader that was constantly fighting for dominance against his alpha id, was uncomfortable holding the entire history of Voltron in the palm of his hand. Years ago, he had chastised Pidge for keeping records on them, lest the information fall into the wrong hands; as he recalled, Keith had considered it a wise action. 

"Why are you giving these to me now?" 

Keith shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself as he fought back a shudder from being so close to the man. "Like I said, you'll need them."

Shiro hesitated, curling his fingers tightly around the drive. "I thought you were going to help fill in the blanks."

There was little to no chance of that happening, he knew. Not with the turbulent waters currently between them. 

His query had opened a door for Keith. He wanted to make this short and painless. Shiro would not be pleased to hear what he had to say, which was why he had waited to speak to him last. Personal emotions aside, he owed the man honesty, at the very least. 

Sighing, he lifted his gaze from the floor and stared at Shiro frankly. "I'm giving them to you because I won't be here to fill in the blanks with you. I'm leaving."

The floor felt as it bottomed out from beneath Shiro's feet. He nearly dropped the tablet Keith had given him.

"What--why--what do you mean _leaving_?"

Keith turned his eyes away once more. "I'm going to stay with the Blade of Marmora."

"When did you decide this?!"

"I've been thinking of it for weeks." he admitted. For the sake of his mate and for the love he bore Shiro, he had tried to bear through the worst of it. When he had unwittingly unleashed the alpha, he had come apart. That was all the sign he needed that it was time to leave. No amount of waiting and hoping could keep him afloat through this unending storm. 

"Keith, you can't--"

"I've already contacted Kolivan. I leave tomorrow morning."

Tomorrow. Shiro cringed; every time Keith said tomorrow it was a pain for him. Tomorrow? How could that be? Had Keith truly been suffering so long that he had been considering abandoning the team for weeks? After the spectacle he had made at the bar, he could understand the desire to be apart, but weeks before? He had thought that they were coming together once more. Keith had not been rejecting his advances as vehemently as he once had. It had given him hope. 

He reached a hand out. "Keith."

Keith flinched, pulling away.

"...Why?"

A hated question, but Keith supposed he owed his mate some answer. "I can't stay here." he said weakly. "I don't belong here any longer."

"Keith, you have always belonged here. You're an integral part of this team. Without you--"

"You'll be fine. We've learned to get along without paladins before. This will be no different."

"That's not the point."

No, it wasn't. Taking a deep breath, Keith steeled himself. "I can't stay here with you any longer. You and I have become toxic together. That blame is solely on me, though. I blamed you for all of our failings as a team, for our inability to form Voltron--I blamed you for everything. But it was my fault." He shook his head ruefully. "My anger has crippled the entire team. I've been preventing you from being the leader you need to be. It's only right that I leave."

The wild howling in Shiro's mind died. Something softer and kinder peaked out from a well hidden hollow, stepping over the once raging alpha and urging him to move forward and comfort his distressed mate. He knew he could not though. As soon as he moved, Keith would recoiled. He was forced to stay at a distance, unable to offer his comfort.

"Keith, I--"

Keith lifted a hand. "Wait. There's something--I have to say something else, before I lose the opportunity."

"Alright..." Shiro wasn't certain he wanted to hear.

He had spent an entire day preparing his words, but still Keith stumbled over his own tongue. Each careful recital of his speech fled his mind until he was left with nothing but a jumble of words he tried to string together in a coherent manner. He took a shallow breath, feeling his eyes water and his chest tighten.

"I never--" he faltered on a sob, but forced himself to carry on, "I want you to know that I never blamed you for leaving me behind."

Shiro shut his eyes, fighting the crest of emotion threatening his composure. 

"I know I've said horrible things to you," Keith continued, voice growing shakier and more uncertain with each breath, "and made you feel like it was you fault, but I know that you weren't to blame. Even when I was sad or mad or in pain, I knew it wasn't your fault. There was never anything for me to forgive. Kerberos, the Black lion, the raid...I know that you were taken from me. I know that, if you had a choice, you never would have left me."

How he had longed to hear those words! Every day he agonized over ways to apologize for his failings as a mate, praying for some clue how to earn Keith's forgiveness. Their argument a week ago had left him reeling, afraid that he had lost all chance to redeem himself. Here it was now though, offered freely and with no strings attached. Well, maybe one string...

A massive weight had been lifted from Shiro's shoulders. The flood of relief was so engulfing, he did not realize that his mate had broken into a fit of quiet sobbing for a long moment. When sense returned, he stepped forward, arms outstretched, but his hope was dashed. Keith jerked away with a pained whine.

Shiro frowned. "Keith...I would _never_ hurt you." 

The pitiful look the man cast him revealed a crushing truth: _I don't trust you_. After the event at the bar, Shiro understood the fear.

"Baby, you don't need to leave. We can fix this. We can still be together. We've never given up on each other before; why should this be any different?"

"I've made up my mind." Keith hiccuped, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes to banish all sign of tears. "I'm leaving and you can't stop me. This is what's best for everyone."

"No." Shiro shook his head, moving forward again and reaching for his arm. "We can fix--"

The reaction was instantaneous and explosive. 

Keith slapped his hand away as if deflecting a blow. "Don't touch me!" he screamed, jumping back, "You can't fix me, I'm broken!"

The ferocity of the reaction left Shiro frozen. He knew those words. He had spoken them to himself thousands upon thousands of times. His heart broke to hear them spat from his mate's lips and to know that Keith believed himself to be broken and irredeemable.

'"You're not--"

"Goodbye, Shiro."

Keith turned, preparing to flee. The sight of the man's back gave Shiro the kick he needed. He lunged, running to cut him off before he left.

"Wait! What--so you're leaving. I'll allow it--I have to. If you say you need to go, then go. But--when will you be back?"

Keith stared, face pale and distraught. "I don't know."

"But you _are_ coming back!"

"...I hope to."

That was hardly an answer that inspired confidence. Shiro felt his emotions growing out of control once more. 

"You're not leaving me though, are you?" he whispered. "You aren't--breaking our bond, are you?"

Keith dropped his gaze, guilty. "I don't want to. But if you want to be free, I understand--"

"No!" Shiro shouted. "I want to be with you! You are my mate! Nothing will change that! _Ever_!"

The volume made Keith flinch, but he was happy to hear the man's vehement declaration all the same. Breaking their bond was truly the last thing he wished for. If Shiro had asked for freedom, he would have given it readily, knowing well how intolerable he had behaved. His mate's constancy was soothing. It was him who was the problem; he had let his personal demons bring him to his knees and taint everything he touched. Once he was sorted out, which he prayed was quickly, he had great hope of being reunited with his mate as they should have been months ago.

"I love you." he whispered. 

Shiro blinked, not having expected the confession. "I love you too. More than anything."

Again, Keith tried to move past.

"Wait."

Keith paused, looking at him warily.

Shiro hesitated, afraid to ask, afraid he might push, but he could not stand the thought of his mate leaving him, even temporarily. "If you're going to be gone long...can I have one last scent of you?"

For a moment, it looked as if his mate might refuse, but after a lengthy pause Keith nodded once. His alpha side danced joyfully as he drew Keith close, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck aside so he could nose in. While his id danced, he could tell that Keith's quaked. The man was stiff in his arms, forcing himself to remain still and calm while he rubbed his scent in. It pained Shiro to see his mate like so and he forced himself away much sooner than he would have liked. 

He would be content with the little bit of scent he had gotten. For the sake of their relationship, he would not inhibit his mate longer and he would pretend that he did not notice how Keith cried as he left.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rift has appeared in the team, but somethings are mending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say T-minus 2 or 3 chapters before this story gets turned on its head. If any of the writing is a bit wonky in this chapter, I chalk it up to my sickness. I've been out of it all week and I spent all of yesterday in bed recovering
> 
> Ficlets up on the tumblr
> 
> *collapses into bed*

They were a morose lot the following morning, silently preparing the ship that would take Keith to the Blade base where Kolivan and his crew waited. While Pidge triple checked the operation systems and coordinates, Hunk packed away a bag of emergency rations. Space was dangerous, he always said; it was better to be prepared. At the back of the hangar, Lance was fiddling with tools, doing his best to appear busy while he brooded unhappily. It was a first for all of them; they had never had a team member leave voluntarily. Despite Keith's assurances that he expected to return as soon as he was well, they held their doubts. 

It was a good thing, Pidge reasoned, although a dark cloud of disappointment hung low over her head. They had all born witness to how low Keith had been brought; his mind was broken and in dire need of mending. It would be impossible to do there, aboard the ship. The root of all of the man's problems would be there with him, hindering any real healing. Her eyes slid away from the pod, to the work station by the door where Shiro slouched, sulking. He seemed in a much better mood, all things considered. She prayed that after letting the alpha out once, he had exhausted himself thoroughly and would not be tempted to give into baser instincts for a long while. Especially considering Keith's subsequent flight undeniably had everything to do with that episode. 

"All set." Hunk said quietly, drifting to her side.

"I'm almost done here, too. Should be a smooth ride for you guys."

He stood quietly by her side, watching as she performed last maintenance checks. They all had questions. Some more than others. Pidge, he thought, understood a good deal more than he or Lance ever could, being natured and an alpha to boot. He didn't need to be natured to see how badly Keith needed to escape. He had seen with his own eyes how damaged their friend was. How the mighty had fallen; the man they dealt with now was a pale imitation of the strong and formidable leader they had followed to death or glory in the name of Voltron and the rebellion. 

With pre-flight checks completed, they could only wait. Had a deep sense of camaraderie not demanded that he be present, Lance would have taken himself elsewhere. Goodbyes had never been particularly hard for him, but it was difficult not to be emotional when one of his best friends was leaving, possibly for good. Tasked as they were with saving the universe from enslavement, there was no chance of popping by the Blade base for a friendly visit. If Keith was leaving for good, then this was goodbye forever. The thought made him grumble and no amount of cheerful words from Pidge or Hunk could lift his spirits.

Several minutes later the hangar door opened and Coran stepped in, his mustache drooping with his frown as he shouldered a sizable bag. He paused in the door, waiting patiently as Keith followed after with Allura. He looked very bad, they could all agree on that. It seemed that, seeing as he was leaving, Keith had given up on all pretense of appearing to be poised and collected. Walking was too great a feat for him, so he shuffled, feet dragging dangerously. The man's entire body looked weighted, shoulders hunched, feet dragging, arms hanging limply. Had Allura's hand not been on his back to guide him, he may have taken a bad fall.

"This way." Coran said gently, taking him by the arm and guiding him forward. It was an unnecessary aid, with the princess already leading, but it settled his own nerves. 

Keith flashed a wane smile, eyes dark and tired. Were he not tapped of all energy, he would have protested all the fawning, but sleep had not come the night before. He was pliant in their hands. 

At the pod, Hunk took his bag from Coran and carefully placed it inside. 

"Ready whenever you are." the yellow paladin stated, forcing a smile.

Keith sighed, holding tightly onto the hand Coran had not yet withdrawn. It was time to say his goodbyes. 

Uncertain where to begin, Allura saved them from a moment of prolonged awkwardness by drawing him into her arms. "Take care. You are doing the right thing, I am sure of it."

He sighed, clutching weakly at her slender frame. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Take your time. We will all be waiting for you."

She pulled away, her expression bright and proud. Any sadness she felt was expertly masked. He wished they would all be so strong, but he knew there would be tears from someone. 

With her goodbyes made, Allura stepped away, walking towards the table where Shiro hunched. He regarded her with guarded eyes, their clashing still vivid in his memory. Even having made apologies, he felt humiliated. That beast of an alpha had shown her the absolute worst of him. For her part, Allura did not let the event trouble her. With Shiro in his right mind, all was well; she would only be mindful of the danger of the man's alpha rage, should he begin showing signs of losing to his nature.

"Will you not see him off?" she asked.

Shiro shook his head. "I want to, but I think he's too weak to have me near him right now. Look at him." It pained him to see how frail his mate had become. He had never seen Keith so weak before. Allowing his alpha side to come out had sent the man into a violent breakdown and he had to bear that guilt. 

Allura followed the line of his gaze, watching as Pidge nestled into Keith's arms. "He is strong, Shiro. As he likes to say, he is a galra warrior. He is made of sturdy stuff. He will be back before we know it."

"I hope Kolivan can help him."

"I am sure he will. Kolivan looks on Keith as his own cub, I wager. He will get Keith all the help he needs."

Shiro made no comment, watching the others as they bid farewell.

With her scent properly embedded in the man's shirt, Pidge pulled away, blinking away a stray tear. "Don't forget us." she warned.

"As if I could." Keith laughed, pulling her back in and scenting her gently. "Hey, between you and me--you're my favorite alpha."

She laughed, tugging at his tail of hair playfully. "Don't tell Shiro."

"Don't tell Shiro." he echoed, letting her go.

Reluctantly, Lance stepped forward. He folded his arms across his chest, fixing his friend with an accusing stare. This was not how they were supposed to part. He had planned it all out and they were not supposed to say goodbye like this. Goodbyes were only to be made at the end of the war, when Lotor and his empire were defeated, the planets that had been colonized and enslaved made free, and universal order put back in place. Only then were they to go their own ways; he, Hunk, and Pidge would return to earth to visit their families and Keith and Shiro would putter about in space for awhile, getting disgustingly cozy and domestic and having fifteen kids. And then of course they would all come back together again because they could not possibly sever the bond they had all made. They were a team. They were a family. 

Keith furrowed his brows, sensing the hostility. It was not directed at him, he knew, but the unhappy situation they found themselves in. He could not blame Lance; they both knew there was a chance that this was the last goodbye. He traced the lines of the man's face with his eyes, memorizing the carefully trimmed goatee, the milky white iris of Lance's injured eye, the haphazard spikes of his cropped hair. 

"Toolbox."

Lance made a face. "Drama queen."

They clasped hands and Lanced pulled him in close, squeezing harder than needed. Something popped in Keith's back and he let go instantly.

"Get your ass back here soon." he laughed nervously.

"Remember your promise."

They stared at one another a moment. The time had come.

"Ready?" Hunk asked.

"Almost." Keith turned to Coran, who reached to hold his hand tightly, as if he still needed support. "I'll be alright. Please don't worry about me."

Coran nodded, drawing him close and stroking his back gently. This separation hurt far more than he was willing to let on. Amid the anguish of learning that all of Altea had been destroyed and he and the princess were all that remained of their race, he had somehow found the will to guide the young paladins. Righteous indignation had spurred the princess to action, but something far more tender had touched his heart. That was not to say that he did not hold a good deal of his own anger and spite, but watching the floundering paladins had awoken his sleeping nurturing instincts. He had been drawn to Keith naturally, feeling protective of the young omega. 

He had not expected to come to love him as he had. Perhaps it was unfair of him; with his own family lost, he had laved care on the skittish omega paladin, eager to pry him from his shy shell and sooth the many hurts he sensed within the boy. He had watched with pride as Keith had come into himself, learning to trust and love and eventually lead. Some of that success he liked to attribute to his own work. He was proud as a parent. 

"Take care of yourself." Coran said with forced cheer. "Eat well. Sleep often. And be sure to do as Kolivan says; you don't need an angry galra leader on your bad side."

Keith nodded into his shoulder, smiling softly. "I'll be obedient."

"Good boy."

With great reluctance, he let his arms grow loose and allowed Keith to step back. Pidge's scent was strong on the man, but Coran had left enough of his own scent to keep him company, should he grow lonesome so far from home. He watched as Lance cupped his hands to provide a footstool as Hunk leaned over the side of the ship and pulled Keith up by the arms. That he was too feeble to mount by himself alarmed Coran some, but his concern was eased, knowing that soon the man would be in the capable hands of the Blade of Marmora. 

"Alright," Hunk started cheerfully, pulling the hatch closed and securing the cockpit, "strap in and we can get going."

"Right..." With a sigh, Keith reached for the belt then paused as movement outside his window drew his attention. 

Shiro stared up at him forlornly, offering only the barest of smiles when they caught eyes. Keith stared back, unable to muster a return smile. Sighing, he pressed his hands to the glass before leaning his forehead against the pane as well. Whatever it was he was trying to communicate, his mate understood. Mouthing a quick declaration of love, Shiro stepped back to a safe distance, with the rest of the crew.

"Keith? Are you ready?"

Almost, he changed his mind. These people were his family; they meant more to him than anyone had ever meant to him in all his life. To part from them would be a pain the likes of which he had not ever felt before. _It's not forever_ , Keith reminded himself. They were not parting for good...he prayed. Goodbyes were always difficult for him, given how frequently he went through them in the past. 

"Go." he said stiffly, adjusting his harness. If they did not leave immediately, his courage would falter and he wouldn't be able to go through with it.

Hunk did not need to be told twice; he hated goodbyes as much as any other. Which made this particular task even more difficult because he had to endure the awkwardness for several hours in one long, drawn out farewell. It had to be done though and he felt humbled that Keith had requested he make the journey with him. With the bay door clear, he shuttled towards the wormhole that would take them to the neighboring galaxy where the Blades waited. 

\-------------------------

With the pod out of sight, Shiro left the hangar, fighting against a deluge of emotions. The beast was quieter than it had been in days past, but right that moment it was screaming indignantly. _How dare he_ , it demanded. How dare he allow his mate to leave him; how dare Keith even think of fleeing? It called for him to take up the hunt, chasing his mate down and forcing him into submission. Whatever it was Keith thought he needed, he would give it to him, amply. 

Shiro cringed, struggling against the primal urges and flood of accompanying images. He did not know how much more he could take of his alpha id, suggesting that the cure-all for their strained bond was to pin his mate to the ground, willing or not, and mount him hard. Whether he liked it or not, the images stirred him and he huffed in disapproval at himself, feeling his cock twitch with interest. 

Where had this rabid desire for carnal pleasure come from? He had never felt so lost to his nature; even after reuniting with Keith after the failed Kerberos mission, he had not wanted nearly as bad. 

The alpha whispered something particularly vulgar, suggesting a way to restrain his mate and take what he was owed. 

"Shut up." he growled, slapping his temple. The last thing he wanted in his head were visions of rape. Hunk's accusation still stung him to think about.

He came upon Keith's room shortly thereafter--it was Keith's room, he had come to accept. The days of it being their shared room were long past. Even with his mate packed up and gone, he felt like an intruder, slipping inside and walking among the few possessions left behind. He traced his fingers over the top of the dresser, straying over a few tools. When he pulled the top drawer open, he was not surprised to find it empty. Searching the remaining drawers, giving in to his curiosity, he paused in surprise at the bottom drawer. His clothes were there, neatly folded and stacked. 

Shiro plucked up a long sleeve shirt he had thought had been lost. When Keith had shown him to the smaller room he currently occupied, his clothes had already been moved. He had noted the absence of some of his closet, but it was nothing worthy of mentioning. 

Tossing the shirt aside, he moved to the chest at the end of the large bed. That at least had remained the same; the chest brimmed to overflowing with spare blankets and pillows. When Keith nested, he demanded to have the entire castle's laundry supply at his disposal. Shiro laughed softly to himself, recalling a particularly stressful nesting period where Keith had taken to stealing the towels from the communal bathing room. He and Lance had gotten into an argument so heated, they hadn't been able to form Voltron for a week. 

Shiro frowned suddenly. He had forgotten what it was that had upset Keith so much to send him into such a particular session of nesting. Nothing good, obviously. Keith was the most in control of his emotions as any natured person he ever saw. When his instincts became too much for him to manage, it was bad.

Shaking the thought away, he stood and went to the head of the bed. The sheets and blankets had been carelessly thrown into place; another thing that struck Shiro as strange. Keith had liked to keep their room in some semblance of order. There was no helping the boots or jackets that got thrown about haphazardly when they returned from missions exhausted, but the bed was at least in their power to maintain. He was often scolded for not tugging his side of bed into place in the morning. 

Plucking at the edge of the nearest blanket, he brought the soft fabric to his nose and sniffed, hoping for some lingering scent of his mate. The vile smell that filled his nose was gagging. He dropped the blanket immediately, staring in shock at the offending bedding. He had smelled his mate, but he had smelled so much more. Once, their bedding smelled of happiness, sweet exhaustion, and a mix of sweat and musk from their lovemaking. Pleasant smells providing evidence of their happy life. There were no such pleasant smells then. He could smell Keith still, but he smelled stark, rank terror above all else. 

Once he was aware of the smell, Shiro was bombarded by it. It seeped in from every corner of the room, testament to his mate's despair. He grasped the blanket in his hands and sniffed again frantically.

"No...no...baby, why?"

How had it gotten so out of hand, he lamented to himself, burying his face in the soft, foul smelling blankets. Was this all his doing? Could he have helped? Why hadn't Keith come to him? Had he gone to _anyone_? Shiro wagered not; Keith was proud. He would have stewed in his own misery until he could no longer stomach it quietly. 

It hadn't smelled so foul when he had been in there weeks ago, after Keith's panic attack from the bonding exercises. Perhaps there had been a hint of distress, but nothing so violent or potent as then. Something terrible had occurred between the bonding event and Keith's leaving and Shiro knew exactly what it was. His alpha id made no comment on his fiery allegation, only rumbled softly in discontent. There was no denial. 

His hands shook as he balled the blanket together.

"Please," he did not know who he implored, but he begged mightily, " _please_ help him. Please make him better!"

\---------------------------

The ride was quiet; Keith was lost in some sort of lucid state of dreaming, eyes neither open or closed, mind elsewhere but not entirely shut off. Every few moment Hunk's eyes would slide over, checking. He could not articulate even to himself what he was anxiously checking for, but he examined the man all the same.

"You gonna take a nap?"

Keith grunted. "We're almost there."

"You could still catch a bit of shut eye. Who knows what Kolivan will want to do to you when you get there."

He tried to smile, but Keith only stared blankly. They sat quietly for a moment. There seemed to be no time like the present to ask questions and he had several burning ones that he wished to get answers to before Keith was beyond reach. 

"Keith, the other night when we came into your room, Shiro was there. He was--well, you know how he acted that day. He wasn't all there. His alpha side had taken over. When we came into the room, he was holding you down and you were screaming. It _looked_ like--"

" _No_." Keith glared at him, very much awake suddenly. "Don't ever think that, Hunk. Shiro would _never_ \--even in an alpha fit, he would never do that."

Hunk grimaced; he was not so certain. His trust in their once poised leader had wavered significantly. Getting the cold shoulder, he could overlook. That was just how Shiro tended to be after traumatic experiences. He would not blame the man; if distance was what Shiro needed to recover, he would happily give it. Lashing out at the rest of them though, trying to force his attentions on his mate--that was not Shiro, nor was it behavior they could tolerate.

"When you were running from the bar with Lance and Shiro caught you..." he trailed off, feeling the weight of Keith's unhappy gaze on him, "It looked like Shiro might hurt you. It looked like he might have done worse than just hurt you."

He wished that he had been surprised by Hunk's wary observations, but Keith was not. Shiro, he knew, would never hurt him; he was the pinnacle of respect and gentlemanly nature. The alpha though...that was a completely different beast. The alpha would not hurt him, he had come to think. Not intentionally at least. It would dominate and force him to submit, maybe even force a rough mounting on him, but it would not harm him.

He stopped himself short; shaking his head in frustration. It was those types of thoughts that reminded him why he needed to distance himself from his mate. As the alpha grew stronger, he grew weaker; fragile and unstable. Sanity was slipping away. 

"Please," he said weakly, "don't think too harshly of him. Shiro is...struggling with something. Whatever it is, I can't help him. If anything, I make it worse. I bring out the worst in him."

"What is he struggling with?"

"I don't know, but you have to help him and soon, before he loses to it."

Hunk frowned at the expanse of space in front of him. That was little to no help at all and offered no real excuse for Shiro's odd behavior. Whatever was wrong, it needed to be dealt with quickly; it had already gotten out of hand once and he was dealing with the repercussions then, taking one of his teammates to the edge of the galaxy, where he would be safe from their leader's hands.

"We'll do our best." he offered.

That was all he could hope for, so Keith said nothing, merely nodded and turned his attention to the stars outside. He would trust that, regardless of any distrust or dark feelings among the other paladins towards Shiro, they would do their best to see the man well again. Fifteen years together was too long a time together; they would not just throw the man away as soon as he grew difficult. There was history there that demanded respect and love. He trusted his teammates to do right by his mate.

\-----------------------------------

Their arrival at the base was met with a small display of honor. When the pod was brought into the base proper, Kolivan stood waiting at the head of a party of five galra soldiers. Hunk suddenly understood why Keith had opted to put on his Blade suit rather than his more comfortable civilian clothing. He wanted to appear grateful.

Kolivan stepped to the ship as soon they had come to a stop, offering a helping hand as Keith began crawling out. The man's harsh expression faltered for a split second as he all but caught the man, setting him upright on his feet. 

Clearing his throat, Keith took a step back, pulling together his last reserves of strength to put on a show of strength he in no way felt. "Thank you for allowing me to join you for my recovery."

"It appears to be much needed." Kolivan commented, turning and indicating the line of warriors at his back. "I have assigned these soldiers to look after you during your stay."

Keith looked to them, offering a respectful nod of his head. He opened his mouth to speak then looked again at the soldiers, struck suddenly by their shape. All women; he puzzled over why he would be assigned to the care of five females. Perhaps it was nothing, although he tended to believe that there was some logic behind the decision. Kolivan never made a decision without ample thought on the matter beforehand.

He would ask later; Hunk had come around the side of the pod and wanted his attention.

"Will you stay and rest for a bit?" he asked. 

Hunk laughed, eyeing the Blade leader. "I think it's better if I go."

"I'm sure they'd give you something to eat and drink. Even Kolivan isn't without his manners."

The Blade leader growled softly.

"I'm fine." Hunk reassured him. "It's not a long trip. I should get back; Pidge wanted to go over new surveillance tech with me. So...I guess this is goodbye."

Keith nodded. "Thank you for bringing me. You've always had a calming effect on me. I appreciate your patience."

"Always. Promise you won't stay away too long."

"I'll try not to."

"And call when you can. Pidge gave you the updated tablet, right?"

He nodded again. "She did. I'll call when I'm feeling better."

When that would be, Keith wasn't sure, but he had honest intentions of keeping in close contact with the others. It would be difficult without his family at hand; for some fifteen or so years they had been side by side. Hardly a day went by when they weren't together. This was a first for Keith. He had a strange thought, wondering if Shiro had felt the same fear and loneliness while in captivity that he felt then. He could not imagine otherwise.

"Goodbye, Hunk. I'll--" his words caught in his throat as the man leaned forward and wrapped his great arms around him, crushing him in a bear hug. "Gah!"

"Get better soon, brother!"

"You're squeezing my guts out, Hunk! Put me down!"

It was a gross exaggeration, but Hunk set him down, knowing how strong his grip could be. He offered a gentler embrace, patting his friend's back with care. When he stepped back, Keith offered a watery smile, at a loss for further words. That was fine by Hunk; he hated goodbyes and he did not want to belabor this unhappy moment. Nodding towards the Blade members and offering a thanks to Kolivan, he returned to the pod and made to leave.

As the ship turned, disappearing into the airlock and shuttling off, Keith raised a hand, bidding his comrade farewell. He stood for a long while after the ship had departed, staring, waiting. A hand on his back drew his attention and he was guided forward to meet the band of women warriors who would tend to him during his confinement.

\-----------------------

Lance kicked at the wrench he had dropped, cursing a moment later as he got down on hands and knees to scramble after it. He threw it across the room the moment he had it back in his hand, cursing again. 

"This is so fucked up, I can't even--Argh!" If there had been anything else at hand, he would have thrown that as well.

Pidge shook her head, trying to maintain her concentration as she worked on a new scanner. With her tools flying all about the hangar, it would be an impossible task, but she needed to keep her hands and mind occupied. She felt Lance's frustrations as keenly as the rest. 

"It's better that he goes and gets help than stay here and lose his mind." she said evenly, tweaking a wire. 

That, Lance angrily agreed with. "If he hasn't already lost it. Did you see how wild he was? I've never seen an attack like that! What was that?! What--"

"It was a mental break down, I'm sure. He's been falling apart for weeks now."

"Which makes no sense; Shiro is back. I thought that was supposed to make him feel better."

"Not if Shiro is also--" _broken_ , "unwell."

Shiro was not unwell, Lance thought, he was going insane, in a very different way than Keith had been. They took the man's strength for granted, he was willing to admit that. Shiro had a bad habit of disappearing and coming back at the most unexpected times. Usually, something was off when he returned, but Shiro always bounced back. He suffered silently until he was well again. 

This time was different though. Shiro wasn't just suffering, he was suffering and dragging others down with him. Keith was gone now because of him, having been goaded into hysteria by whatever demons Shiro had in his head. Lance clenched his fists, remembering the promise he had made to his friend. Help Shiro....Keith had pleaded with him. How the hell was he supposed to do that though? They didn't even know what was wrong with the man!

That seemed to be the first step then: figure out what was wrong with Shiro and go from there. With luck, it was nothing too serious. Maybe the man had injured his head and had an aneurysm in his brain that was pressing on certain parts, altering his character. Truthfully, he couldn't come up with any real reason for the man's violent change of character.

Pidge watched him from the corner of her eye, guessing what was on his mind. Now that the worst of his anger had been vented, it gave her an opportunity to broach a subject with him that had been on her mind for days.

"When you were down there at the bar, Shiro had him in a tight grip." she began without preamble. Lance looked at her, waiting. "It looked like Keith got a good smell of him and whatever he smelled, he didn't like."

"What do you mean?"

"I was watching the feed the entire time. As soon as Shiro pressed him against his neck, Keith started shaking."

"Shaking?" Lance frowned; he hadn't noticed any of that, although he had been somewhat busy trying to avoid flailing elbows and fists as he attempted to sneak closer to the pair.

Pidge nodded. "Like a leaf. And then he said something that I think was what put Shiro over the edge."

"By all means, share. I'd like to know what the hell happened down there."

"He said 'Lotor'." At Lance's prolonged stare she added, "That seemed to be what set Shiro off."

"Lotor?"

"That's what he said."

"Lotor." Why in the hell would Keith say Lotor's name? The prince had very obviously not been present, nor were the galra soldiers there part of the royal army. They had been among backwater warriors who had probably never even seen their prince. "Do you think it has something to do with that bite?"

Pidge frowned, setting her tools down. She had pondered the event for days, turned over all possible reactions she could think of, and could not come to any better explanation. "I can't think it would be anything else."

\-------------

Walking into the kitchen, Shiro was met with a hard stare.

He swallowed, offering a tired smile. "Hunk."

He sat at the island, knowing better than to rummage through the food stores with the kitchen master about. Much as he wanted real food, he would settle for green goop if need be. His stomach was rumbling dangerously and he was keenly aware of his hunger. It had not bothered him in days past, but his appetite was returning with vigor. 

A mug of tea was shoved across the counter. "Drink. I'll make you something to eat."

It sounded less of an offer and more of a command. 

"You don't need to trouble yourself, Hunk. I can just grab a plate of goo and get out of your way."

"We need to talk."

Ah. That explained the mood. He wasn't particularly open to a talk at the moment, but Shiro could see from the set of his friend's face that his presence was not being requested; he was there and he would listen. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. 

"You seem to have your words all thought out. Go ahead. I'll listen."

Hunk frowned. This was the most rational he had seen Shiro in weeks. That the man was willing to sit and listen helped temper his mood and stir his courage. All day he had rehearsed his lines and if Shiro had put up a fuss he was willing to get firm. Relieved as he was that they were beginning on a pleasant note, he couldn't shake his concern. Serious conversations had never been easy for him, even less so when he had to initiate. Someone had to though.

"You're out of control." Decorum be damned. 

Shiro's face fell. "I-" he cleared his throat, struggling to regain composure, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"We _all_ feel that way. We could overlook you being moody before, because you weren't hurting anyone. You stepped over the line the other night though."

That accusation he would not stand for. "Don't even think it!" he snarled. "I would never do anything so disgusting! Especially to Keith!"

"Wouldn't you?" Hunk was honestly unsure what Shiro would or would not do anymore. That uncertainty terrified him. "When you were down there with him, you looked like you were one second away from pinning him down and raping him."

"How can you accuse me of such a heinous thing?!"

How could anyone even think that? Had he really breached their trust so completely? He had only been overprotective of Keith. When his alpha side had dominated, it was only concerned about getting Keith to safety and calming him. Violent as it was, it was only ever trying to protect his mate. Why did no one see that? And whatever Hunk _thought_ he had walked in on during the night--

Shiro scoffed. "I would never do such a thing. Ever. And if you think that I could, then you don't know me."

"You're right, I don't know you. You have pulled away from us completely. You're not the same man you were."

"What did you expect?!" His anger had been mounting for days, frustration at his ill treatment and his teammates' secretive nature coming to a head. For the sake of peace, he had contained himself, exercising the worst of his demons through repressive meditation or venting training sessions. The pent up aggression exploded then; he had lost too much that day. He was not willing to take another blow. "Where the fuck do you think I was all those years? Sitting on a warm planet, taking a vacation?! I was imprisoned! Tortured! Abused! What did you think was happening?! Of course I'm not the same!"

Hunk bit his tongue; he had expected an outburst of some sort. It was an unfair situation to be. He could not imagine the torment Shiro endured. He could not imagine how traumatized Keith was after whatever fallout had happened between the two lovers. There was no winner there. They all suffered, one way or another. Some more so than others. Much more.

"Shiro, we know what happened to you. Not absolutely, but we can guess. You've been taken before. But if something was different this time, if something worse than before has happened, we don't know. You haven't told us anything. You've focused all your energy on trying to get back with Keith and your attentions sent him into a downward spiral. Now he's gone. Whatever happened, you need to fess up to it so we can help. We don't want to force you to open up, but there isn't much choice left."

What did they know, Shiro seethed silently. The length of their concern had been a few tentative 'are you okay's, made when he first returned. Of course he hadn't been alright. Of course he hadn't wanted to talk about it then. How was that on him? All he had wanted was to find a quiet space to curl up with his mate and let the traumas float away. He had found no sympathy or understanding from any of them.

"Were you this callous when Keith pulled away?" he asked evenly, though his voice was tight and quivering with rage. 

Hunk snorted. "It's easier to show sympathy to a scared, crying kitten than it is to a rabid, snarling dog."

A rabid dog. Was that how he appeared to the team? He had been a beast, he was ready to admit that. 

"What do you want from me, Hunk?"

As Hunk opened his mouth to answer, the door slid open and Lance strode in, furious and determined. The man jabbed an accusing finger in Shiro's direction and barked,

"You! You need to get help _now_!"

The alpha had had enough disrespect. It snapped angrily and he rose to his feet, fixing Lance with a challenging stare. "You--"

"No, no, no!" Lance sliced through the air with the flat of a hand. "You don't get to turn this on me and get angry! I promised Keith that I would get you help, and I'm going to keep my promise. You need to go to the med bay _now_!"

The man's words caught Shiro off guard. The alpha fell silent. "Keith asked you to...?"

"Keith _begged_ me to get you help, so I'm getting you help. Whatever the hell is wrong with you that's making you act all weird, we're gonna figure it out and make you better! I'm sick of you moping around and I'm sick of Keith jumping at his own shadow. We're a team. We take care of each other."

Something flitted through Shiro's chest, making his lungs burn. Lance's words echoed in his mind. "Keith wanted me to get help."

Lance threw his arms open wide, as if greatly exasperated. "Yes! We all want you to get help! We want our leader back!"

Hunk nodded. "We do, Shiro." he said gently, hoping a touch of softness would balance out Lance's overly enthusiastic timbre. "We want to help. We want you back. I can see how you wouldn't believe that, but it's true. We just want to help you. Will you let us?"

Now they wanted to play nice, the alpha growled. After all that time, they were coming to him now with a plea to seek aid? 

"Think about Keith."

Shiro looked over to Lance, surprised. Everything he did, he always thought of Keith. Every action he made, he always considered whether it would please his mate, if it would keep him safe and from harm. Keith was all that mattered. He and the snapping alpha could agree on that. 

He needed help. Not just for Keith, but for his team. For _himself_. He had known it for weeks and had avoided confronting his issues, listening instead to the persistent voice of his alpha id, insisting that all would be well if he just had his mate back in his bed. Matters had come to a head. He had reached the turning point; he could surrender and reach for the olive branch being offered or shut himself off forever and lose to the alpha. 

Rising to his feet, he took the mug of tea Hunk had made and turned towards the door. Lance turned to Hunk imploringly. Hunk sighed. An intervention might soon be needed.

\-------------------------------

As he secured each capsule of pills, Coran kept a careful count of the number that remained, ever the man for details. It was crucial to know how their stock of medicines fared. The news of Keith's impending departure had caught him off guard and he had rushed to put together a care package that he hoped would be of some use. He had painstakingly put together containers of anti-depressants, sleeping pills, muscle relaxants, sedatives, and pain killers that the man typically used. Once Keith arrived at the base, he was sure Kolivan would review the contents of the package and sort through the useful. If any of it could be put to use, it was a worthy sacrifice to make.

The opening of the medical bay door surprised him and he turned as Shiro walked in, expression sour.

"Ah, Shiro. Can I help you with anything?"

The man sighed in response, shuffling to an examination cot and plopping down heavily. For a long moment his gaze remained fixed on the floor; he was unable to look Coran in the eye. He was, for some reason, embarrassed. He ought to be embarrassed of himself, sense told him. His coming was long overdue.

"Coran," he lifted his head, staring tiredly at the Altean, "I think I'm ready to get help now."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little ray of hope shines through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, I'm still so sick and tired, I can't even come up with a proper summary. But, anyways, I think we have, in fact, reached the turning point. You guys have toughed it out through the worst, so kudos to you for hanging on. 
> 
> Let the healing begin (slowly)!

The room Keith currently occupied was reminiscent of his garrison dorm or the little hovels they first occupied in the castle. Little more than a closet with a bed and a small antechamber with a wash closet, it was simple and contained all the amenities he needed. Truthfully, the cramped, spartan state of the room reminded him of the cabin he had once lived in. Cabin, he supposed, was a generous word. Shack was what the others referred to it as. He had been proud of his little shack all the same. What more on earth could a seventeen-year-old wish for than a comfy cot, a hotplate and microwave for cooking, and a weathered porch to sit on at night and gaze at the stars? Granted, the lack of an actual restroom got tired fairly quickly, but before the others showed up he had made vast improvements to the place, adding a small bathroom (another generous term) and buying a light weight generator. He had never told Shiro just how poorly he had lived, with no electricity for months and stumbling outside through sand and stone whenever he needed to shit. 

For all it lacked, the cabin had been home. His bed was soft and cozy, he was far from prying eyes, and his needs had been met. It had been all he needed. He had been content with the little he had. Which might have explained why he felt oddly at peace in the room Kolivan had given him. 

"You will not find any luxury items here." the man warned, showing him in and dropping his bag on the floor.

Keith made a quick circuit of the room and, finding it to his liking, turned to the man with a smile. "It's perfect. It's all I need."

His answer pleased Kolivan. "When you are settled, Lira will take you to the mess hall for a meal." He turned slightly, revealing a muscular galra female standing just outside the door.

"I noticed all of my guard is female. Is that for any particular reason?"

"You are a cub--"

"I would hardly call thirty-two a cub any longer." Keith protested.

"You are a cub to _us_ ; the women I have assigned to you are experts in their fields. They have studied all types of medicines and are more than qualified to treat you."

Still, Keith was suspicious. "So, there's no reason that they're all women?"

Kolivan stared at him a moment before offering gruffly, "You're a cub; you will respond better to a mother figure."

That appeared to be the end of that conversation. Kolivan turned on his heel and left the room, making some comment to the lady in the hall. Had he any energy to spare, Keith might have felt embarrassed to be infantalized. As was, he could not find the will to care too much. If Kolivan thought he would respond better to a female doctor, then so be it; they would find out. He was at their mercy and he would be grateful. Kolivan had his hands full with the war; he did not have to take in a wayward paladin suffering from mental afflictions. If ever he felt himself growing resentful, Keith promised he would remind himself of such.

He fell into the cot face first, feeling the exhaustion radiating from his bones. He wanted to sleep terribly and, far removed from the source of his anxiety, he now had the tranquility of mind to do so. But a meal first. He had not eaten a thing that morning and if he wished to recover then he needed to take care of the basics first; which meant returning to a normal eating and sleeping pattern. Sighing heavily, he forced himself up, swinging his legs over the edge and pausing, contemplating.

He thought that he felt better already. His senses were oddly clear, his mind no longer stuck in fight or flight mode. Keith frowned. He felt better, but he knew that he only felt that way because he was no longer forced into Shiro's company. The truth of it cut deeply. He longed for his mate, but his body refused to allow him to seek the man out and take comfort from him. 

There was no time to dwell on the whys and wherefores--or, there was time, but at present he was putting aside that time for food and sleep. When he was slightly more put together, he would sit down and puzzle through his turbulent emotions towards his mate, how he had gotten into the low state he was in, and how he had gotten his senses so mixed as to confuse his loving Shiro with--- _that_ vile man.

A meal first, then rest. Recovery later. He was in good hands. With luck, he would be back with his family by end of the month.

\-------------------

He was not as well composed as he thought he was, according to Kolivan. A day after his arrival, he was bombarded with a number of mental, physical, and emotional tests that left him sore and drained. His reflexes were shot; he jumped at little twitches and missed deflecting direct blows. His nerves were distressed to the point of uselessness. Reality was slipping from his grasp, to all of their alarm. 

"You see enemies around every corner." one of the galra woman told him, clacking away on a keyboard as she wrote up the results of his testing.

Keith hesitated to respond; he had been losing his grip for awhile, but he hadn't thought that he was stepping into delirium. 

"Have you always felt persecuted?"

"I've always felt _disliked_." Keith answered honestly. "I was never very popular at school. My opinions aren't always valued. Even as a paladin."

The woman hummed. "Has your mate been dismissive of your opinions and worth?"

He did not want to answer. "Yes. Never my worth, but--he doesn't listen when it matters most." Which was what landed them in that position to begin with. If Shiro had just listened to him about the raid... "He doesn't mean to do it."

"But he does. And you resent him for it."

"Yes...a little."

The woman--Ryvaina, he thought it was--finished her report and closed the screen. "Go back to your room. I will review my findings with Kolivan and he will decide how to go about the next steps."

He was interested to see what those next steps would be. There was a chance galra healing methods were vastly different than human ones. In his state, he doubted Kolivan would be putting him through any trials. He was, as the man said, a cub to them. One did not send wounded cubs into a lion's den. ...Maybe. Years later, and he was still uncertain of the other half of his bloodline. There hadn't been much opportunity to explore the galra culture.

As Ryvaina made to leave, he stood. "Wait."

Her piercing eyes felt like needles digging into his skin, making him keenly aware of how small and vulnerable he was. He felt like prey. He had for weeks. 

"There's something else I should tell you...something that might explain all of this." He did not want to tell, but the first step to recovery, he supposed, was acknowledging that it had happened. Running from the truth had done nothing for him but warp his sense of reality until he saw his own mate as enemy. It was time to share.

Very shortly thereafter he was seated before Kolivan, recounting the tale again. He was not alone; all five of Keith's guardians were present, staring at him with the intensity of a super nova. Every scrap of self-respect and worth he had scrounged together over the last year and a half shriveled and died as he went over each sordid detail. With eyes glued to the floor, he relived the horror. It was not difficult to give them the detail they wanted; it was still fresh in his mind, as if it had happened yesterday.

At the end of his story, he turned his head away, refusing still to look them in the eyes. They chattered quietly between them in their native language, some of which Keith understood. He picked out choice words, grimacing and wishing he hadn't begged the Blade's for lessons on the language.

"Who else knows of this?" Kolivan asked, voice a low, thick timbre.

Keith shrank at the sound of it. "Coran." He paused. "Shiro might know. He saw...something when we joined our minds for a bonding exercise. I shielded him from the worst of it though."

"That is all?" the leader snapped.

He nodded. That was far more people than he wanted to know about his shame. And now six more people knew. 

"You should have come to us sooner." Kolivan huffed, forcing his voice into as gentle a rumble as he could muster. "You were in no state to return to your wounded mate."

That, Keith knew very well. And yet everyone had been so eager to thrust him back into Shiro's arms. Fault was on him for not speaking up, he supposed. Or was it? His thoughts were so muddled now, trying to place blame on Lotor, on his own shoulders, on those who thought he just needed to be in Shiro's presence. 

"It was my shame to bear." he mumbled, rubbing at his tired eyes. He wanted to cry, having said aloud the words he had needed, painting a picture of the worst nightmare of his life. He wanted to scream and throw a fit and run away. 

"No shame." Lira said, leaning forward to touch his arm soothingly. 

He flinched, afraid. "Have I ruined Shiro too? It is Shiro, isn't it? That's real, isn't it? _He's_ real? It's Shiro there?"

Ryvaina began writing furiously. "What do you mean by real?"

He had already given up his greatest secret; why hold back now? Everything had to come out. He needed to be cleansed. "I don't know if it's really Shiro. It doesn't smell like him, it doesn't act like him. But it is--I know it is. _He_ is." A stray tear fell free. "Sometimes...when I looked at him, I didn't see my Shiro. I knew it was him standing there, but I didn't see him. I only saw Lotor."

"You can feel the prince's presence when you're with your mate." Lira said, less a question than a statement.

"No!" he shook his head vehemently. "No, I _see_ Lotor. When I look at Shiro, all I see is Lotor."

While Keith sat among the women, words and secrets tumbling from his mouth without hesitation, Kolivan excused himself. There was important work that needed to be done. 

The communications monitor looked up at him in surprise as he entered the hub of the base, jumping to his feet to salute. 

"Send a message to Voltron." Kolivan demanded. "Alert them to the possibility that the Black Paladin has been compromised. Also tell them that we will be sending a physician at once."

The monitor quickly typed the message, preparing to send. "Is there anything else, leader?"

Kolivan considered. "Yes. Address this to the attention of the princess only. Also tell her that the Red Paladin has been thoroughly vetted and begins treatment immediately. He is in dire condition, but I am hopeful. A full report to follow."

\------------------------------

Kolivan threw each container of pills into the trash shoot with a disapproving huff.

"I need those." Keith protested dejectedly, wondering how he was to sleep without a good dose of sense obliterating pills. 

"Those medicines are no good." Kolivan huffed.

"They do their job."

"They are ancient cures for modern illnesses. It is no great wonder you have not made any steps in recovery. You take weak sleeping aids and mind numbing herbs that do nothing to help heal. Have I not warned you of relying so heavily on the Altean medical treatments?"

He had, Keith thought, sighing. He was tired of being lectured.

"I don't see what the problem is. We've used their healing tanks and scanning devices for years without problem."

"And you are lucky they haven't taken limbs off. Those machines are untrustworthy. Any medical tools found in that castle should be considered flawed. Never trust their reports or their archaic medicines." Kolivan repeated. "I will have Knair prepare a new regiment for you. They will be far more efficient. You will meet with Ryvaina daily."

Therapy then. It was almost surreal. That was the type of healing he expected on earth; nothing technologically advanced about it. He was no stranger to therapists. His foster father and mother had enrolled him in bi-weekly sessions with a very expensive one after they had brought him home. They poured money into therapists, medicines, and alternative programs to make him feel loved and to show him he was safe. It had worked. Until the woman died and his foster-father gave him up.

He probably could have used a bit of therapy after that crushing loss, Keith supposed. No wonder he was so fucked up when Shiro found him. 

There was no help for it; he had to obey Kolivan. With a soft shake of his head, he flung himself into bed, curling up and starting to drift away. 

"Why do you sleep like that?"

Keith lifted his head to look at Kolivan. "What?"

"Your boots are still on." he gestured to the dirty soles twisted in the sheets. "Your blade is in your hand."

Keith clenched his fist. Sure enough, he felt the familiar heft of his blade's hilt fitted perfectly in his palm. He hadn't even noticed that he was holding it. He looked at Kolivan. Was it odd to sleep with a weapon? Surely not. Maybe the boots he could see as odd, but he needed them on, needed to be prepared to flee at any second, in case--

"I feel safe this way." he said quietly, dropping his head back into the pillow and gripping the blade hilt firmly. 

Kolivan made no comment, though his hum of disapproval spoke volumes. The door to his room opened and closed a moment later. He was alone. 

\---------------------

Four days and numerous tests later and still they had not found any conclusive answers to why he was so intemperate. Shiro dropped his head into his folded arms, exhausted. He loathed tanks and scans and tests. At least when he had endured the probing, invasive tests years before, they yielded results. Thus far, all he had to show for his troubles was a number of bruises and needle marks.

"I'm sorry, Shiro." Coran said sadly, reviewing the most recent report. "According to the scanner, there is nothing physically wrong with you. Your organs are functioning at full capacity, you have no healing wounds, and your bones are intact."

"My blood then." he said thickly, already dreading the drawing of blood. "It has to be in my blood then."

Coran frowned, putting the recent scan aside and sitting beside the man on the cot. He had been elated the day Shiro had walked into the medical bay and asked for help. It was long overdue and he should have pushed for the paladin to come sooner. He had been preoccupied with Keith and his mental deterioration. Now Shiro suffered for it. He would not be so lax again, Coran swore. 

He placed a hand on Shiro's shoulder. "Why don't you go and rest for today. You've been pushing yourself with all of these tests. I'll review the results again and look into some other alternatives."

Shiro shook his head. "No, I need to know what's wrong with me. Check my brain scan again. Are you sure they didn't implant anything? Maybe I hit my head and there's a piece of bone loose."

That seemed an oddly specific request. "Why do you think there's something wrong with your brain?"

It was all in his head, Shiro knew that. It was that voice, constantly hissing, snapping, screaming, berating him. It was never silent, always beating him down with some sharp, vile words or horrible imagery. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to stand having it in his head. It had already chased away his mate, the one person he thought could banish the demon. If he didn't exercise it soon, he wasn't going to last. 

"I know it's in my head." he said quietly, staring at the floor. "I've never had these types of thoughts before. I've never wanted blood and violence. It talks to me. It tells me to do things."

"What does it say to you, Shiro?"

He could not look Coran in the eye as he confessed. "It wants me to do things." He shut his eyes, feeling a welling of painful tears come to his eyes. He didn't want to tell, he wanted to bury the secrets and not let on how bad he was, but a part of him, the sliver of sanity that still remained, urged him to speak. He needed to speak up. "It tells me to hurt my teammates; to force myself on my mate; to kill anyone who offends me or stands in my way."

There were so many horrible images in his head: visions of his enemies splayed before him, eviscerated; visions of his teammates, bloody and begging for his mercy; the worst--visions of holding his screaming mate down and mounting him like a beast until he submitted. He could not get rid of them; they were always swimming in the back of his mind, waiting to burst forth at the most inopportune moment. They made him sick. They made him hate himself.

A hand on his shoulder banished the thoughts momentarily. Coran gazed at him steadily, a warm, devoted look in his eyes. It was such a kind expression, Shiro felt the oddest urge to embrace the man.

"Don't worry, Shiro. We'll find what's wrong with you. Give me some time to come up with some new tests. I'll review the medical manuals too."

"What if--what if I hurt someone before you find out what's wrong with me?"

Coran shook his head, smiling gently. "You won't."

"How can you be so sure?" He wasn't certain of his own strength of will any longer.

"Because you're Shiro." Coran said, as if that were the silliest question he had ever heard. "You are the strongest and most capable paladin. You are the head of Voltron and the leader of the paladins for a reason. Even when you are injured, even when you are sick, you are the leader they need. You do not give in."

Shiro stared. How could Coran be so confident? He had done nothing to earn such trust. There was nothing so special about him that set him apart from the others. Hell, if anything, he was easily disposable. Black had taken Keith in as potential paladin ages ago. He wasn't worthy of such high praise.

Ducking his head, he muttered a thanks and rose to his feet. There was no choice but to wait until Coran came up with new tests to run. It would be torture, but he would have to endure. He would discover what was wrong with him if he had to suffer every invasive test in existence. 

Nodding appreciatively to Coran, he left, dragging his feet tiredly. He would take the man's advice and try to rest. There was a tablet of information awaiting his attention still. With nothing to do but while his time away, he would try his best to catch up on the past activity of Voltron.

\----------------------------

As soon as he saw Hunk in the kitchen, Shiro turned to leave. Too late. He had already been spotted and the man waved a hand in his direction for his attention. 

"Shiro?"

He paused, turning in the doorway and plastering on a smile. "Hi."

"Did you need something?"

"Was just hungry."

Hunk nodded, turning his attention back to the vegetables he was slicing for what looked to be a casserole. "If you can wait a minute for me to get this in the oven, I'll get you a pre-dinner snack."

Shiro paused, weighing his options. Leaving would mean no confrontation, but no meal. Staying would entail either a drawn out awkward silence or an equally awkward conversation. His eyes strayed to the array of foods scattered on the counter. Whatever it was Hunk was preparing, it looked delicious. 

_What the hell_ , he thought with a sigh, walking forward and taking a seat at the counter. He was never one to run from confrontation. "Before I thank you, should I ask if this snack comes with a set of strings attached to it?"

Hunk paused midway to the oven. "What do you mean?"

Shiro stared at him steadily. "I think you know exactly what I mean."

The man made a soft, noncommittal grunt before placing his pan in the oven. Shucking off his oven mitts, Hunk returned to his work space and began pulling together a light dish. "I'm not going to apologize for confronting you about your behavior." he said. "And I'm not going to apologize for asking you about what was happening between you and Keith." he paused, eyes flicking to Shiro. "But I will apologize for how I went about it. I was...brusque and tactless."

Shiro snorted. "That is putting it mildly." 

"You're right. I came on too strong."

"You practically attacked me."

Hunk nodded, accepting that criticism readily. "I did. I didn't mean to get so defensive. I was just--" he shook his head, "It was hard, taking Keith to that base. For lots of reasons. But every time I think about it, about how we got here, it always comes back to you. Even Keith said that something was wrong with you."

Honestly, Shiro was getting tired of being blamed for every little thing that went wrong. He assented that he had some part to play in Keith's downward spiral, but the rest of them were not helpless, innocent bystanders. They could get around to debating that later, he supposed. 

"Keith said something was wrong with me?"

Hunk nodded, looking him in the eye. "He's worried about you. He thinks that whatever is wrong is going to..." he trailed off, hesitating.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Is going to...?"

"He thinks you might lose to it."

What a perceptive mate he had. Shiro would not admit it to the others--not yet at any rate--but he shared Keith's fear. The alpha was quiet for the moment, but when it piped up, it did so with vengeance. It dominated his mind and boiled his blood. Even the smallest thing could trigger the beast; there was not a single place he could go without fear of waking it. 

He hung his head, thinking of the hideous insinuations the alpha made. He used to think that he had let the animal out, that he had simply grown too tired or too weak and allowed it to reign supreme for a short while--but that was not true. When the alpha was mad, it _took_ control, with his permission or without. Much as he hated the things Keith did and the things he said, he would never have given chase, were he in his right mind. 

"Shiro?" Hunk reached a hand out, thinking to touch the man's arm, but he hesitated at the last moment, pulling his hand back. "Are you alright? Did the tests find anything?" The man stared at him dejectedly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Shiro laughed bitterly. "Don't take this the wrong way, Hunk, but right now I'm not sure I want to confide in any of you."

"I get it. We let you down. Big time."

It was nice to finally receive acknowledgement. "I don't know if 'let down' is the best term for it, but, yes." Betrayed. Abandoned. Those were better words. "Even so, we're still a team. At some point, we'll have to work together to move beyond this."

"You're right. And I get it; we'll have to work for your trust and forgiveness."

"You'll have to work _hard_." 

They fell into silence as Hunk continued to work on his snack. Despite his declaration of distrust, Hunk seemed in a decent mood. Honestly, he felt a bit better himself, Shiro thought. At least he was no longer stewing angrily in his room. His indignity had been vented, his misgivings aired. It was a great relief. 

"This is the first real conversation we've had in awhile." he pointed out.

Hunk glanced at him. "Yeah."

He had to ask; the question had been nagging at him for days. "Why did none of you come and talk to me? I feel like a good deal of this mess could have been avoided if we just--communicated! Truthfully, it felt like you were all setting me up for failure."

"There were a couple of reasons. We did try to talk to you when you came back, but you just shut down. We understood why you didn't want to talk; you do that when things get--stressful."

"But you never asked again after that. You just left matters as is--and you saw how badly they were. We've been failing missions again and again. We can't form Voltron. _That_ , you shouldn't have been able to ignore."

"I'm not a therapist, Shiro. I don't know when you need time for yourself and when we need to push. And the second reason is that you started focusing all your attention on Keith.You didn't even seem to care about yourself."

That was the alpha, he conceded silently. The alpha didn't give a damn about him, it just wanted Keith. "Are there any other reasons?"

Hunk hesitated, mouth pinched. He wasn't looking to upset the man any more than he already seemed to be, but since they were talking, finally talking and being honest with one another, he felt he owed it to Shiro to fully disclose. "Honestly, Shiro? These last weeks? We've been scared of you."

His brows lifted in surprise. "Scared? Of me?"

"I know I blew up at you the other day, but what I said is true; you've been out of control; you're not the same man you were. Sometimes I look at you and I don't recognize you. You've never been aggressive before. Not to us."

"Of course I've been upset." Shiro grumbled, frustrated. "My mate hates me and can't stand the sight of me, my friends refuse to speak to me and treat me like a leaper, I can't perform my duties as head of Voltron because no one will give me the guidance I need, I--"

"Shiro, when you came back that night, you threw Lance to the ground because he tried to stop you from chasing Keith. You snarled in Allura's face and called her a bitch. You knocked all of us around and god knows what you would have done if you _had_ caught Keith. You have _never_ acted like that before. Ever. Even at your angriest, you've never raised a hand against any of us. Are you really surprised that I asked you about what happened between you and Keith? After that show?"

So that as what had happened when the alpha took over. Shiro sat mute, speechless.

Hunk sighed. "I really am sorry for how I confronted you, but--when we heard Keith screaming that night, it sounded like he was being murdered. And when we got to his room, he was kicking and screaming like a wild animal and you were holding him down, keeping him immobile. After what happened in the hangar, I was scared that you had lost it again."

How clear things became when they just talked. Shiro wished they had all sat down and had a heart to heart ages ago. Maybe they could have avoided this pathetic end. Maybe Keith would have gotten the help he needed as well, instead of plummeting into a soul shattering wreck. 

"Hunk, I--"

"Little things matter, Shiro." he said quietly. "Before that whole event, you did things that just didn't sit right. Forcing Keith to hold your hand when he was clearly upset. Following him when he obviously wanted to be alone. Slamming fists into walls, yelling at him in front of others. It was so unlike you."

He had never thought about those little things. They hadn't seemed that important. 

"Hunk, can we table this for another day? I'm glad we're finally speaking, but I have a bone to pick with every one of you. I don't have the energy to make rounds right now with all these tests I'm subjecting myself to, but we'll come back to this." He took a deep breath. "I don't approve of the way you handled things, but I appreciate you looking after Keith's best interest."

With a nod, Hunk returned to his work and, a minute later, pushed a platter across the counter. "We'll talk later then. And, if you trust me enough, you can come to talk any time you want. Just, maybe give Lance a few more days before you try him. He's still raw about it all. Keith was his best friend and he's never handled goodbyes well. You know him; he blows hot and cold."

"Thanks for the advice."

Hunk nodded, offering a small smile before returning to dinner preparations. He shuffled around in companionable silence, sliding scraps to Shiro now and then. Occasionally they would catch eyes and offer friendly smiles. Maybe it was because of his improved mood or maybe it was the fact that the alpha was quiet, but the food tasted unimaginably good to Shiro. He could not remember the last time he had savored a meal. 

Getting up from the counter, he offered a genuine thanks and made for the door. A thought struck him and he paused, turning to face the man.

"Hunk?"

He looked up. "Hmm?"

"Have you heard from Keith? Is he alright?"

Hunk's sudden frown said enough.

"He sent a short note to Pidge the day after he arrived. He doesn't think he'll be back by the end of the month, like he hoped. Kolivan says he's really sick. He said he realized how sick he was too."

Shiro frowned. "Oh."

He started to leave.

"Shiro?"

He paused. "Yeah?"

"He asked about you. He wanted to know if you were feeling better and getting help." A hesitation. "He said he missed you."

Shiro shut his eyes, struggling to remain calm. Elated as he was that Keith had asked after him, he could only focus on the fact that his friends had not shared this information with him earlier. His mate missed him, but they couldn't bother to let him know? Was there more they were not telling him? He could only imagine the things they omitted telling Keith. 

"Thanks for passing on the news."

The alpha started hissing again, but he squashed it. _Focus on the good_ , he told himself. The more he dwelled in anger, the harder it would be to overcome. Until dinner, he would spend the time keeping his mind occupied with his studies. As soon as he was back in his room, he passed over the tablet of battle history and instead went to his personal device. 

He had stared at the same picture of their happy past since returning months ago. A weak smile curved his lips as he gazed at the image. There they were, three years ago, happy and content. His arm was wrapped snugly around Keith's waist, his other hand settled discreetly on his mate's belly. He remembered that moment well, right before Lance barged in, snapping photos of them for a family photo album he was determined to put together.

Keith had slipped into the room where he had set up office and circled around the table to grab his hand. 

"Hmm?" he looked up from the message one of their allies had sent concerning a possible location for a base. 

Keith smiled at him, eyes shining in excitement. There was such joy in his eyes, Shiro had dropped his work immediately, curious. 

"What is it?"

Without hesitation, his mate had taken his hand and pressed it firmly to his belly. "I think I'm pregnant."

For a long moment he had stared at Keith's face. He hadn't been sure he had heard correctly. They had been actively trying for several months, but the actuality of it, the eventually had yet to sink in. The pressure of Keith's hand pressing his own firmly to his belly grounded him and all at once the universe came crashing down on him in a wonderful, soul lifting way. 

He had leaped to his feet and swept Keith into his arms, kissing him firmly before dropping him down and stroking his belly. A mess of sweet, silly words passed between them; declarations of love and unending happiness. He kissed Keith again and again. He had never known such happiness.

Before he could utter the load of doting nonsense that had jumped to his throat, Lance burst in, holding his tablet up high and snapping a photo. 

"You two are so cute, it's disgusting!" he yelled and then ran out the door. And with that, he was gone, just as quickly as he had come. 

It was a nice picture, aside from their confused expressions. There were still traces of exuberant joy in their faces. His chest fluttered with a bittersweet sensation, also remembering the following week, when a follow-up scan had revealed not a child, but a painful lesion that sent Keith into surgery. And after that, the revelation that had razed all of their hopes and dreams of having a family together. A happy memory, followed by a crushing blow. 

Sighing, he flicked his thumb over the screen, finding another picture to focus on. His second favorite: Keith curled up in their nest fort, eyes half lidded as he fought against sleep. 

Shiro smiled, setting the tablet on the desk with the picture watching over him. "Don't worry, baby. I'll get better soon. I'll get better for you. I promise. You get better too."

With that vow made, he turned back to the mission reports and waited for the call for dinner.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absence makes the heart grow fonder...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTWs, if you ever get tired of this angst train, feel free to hop by the tumblr. Things over there are...getting weird. lol
> 
> Anyway, commence screaming in 3...2...1

Shiro ran his hands over his face, pulling his hair tuft a moment later and pressing his palm to his temple to quiet the alpha. Across from him, Allura and Coran shared a worried look. They had accosted him outside of the training room, beseeching him with welcoming but wary smiles and requesting his presence in a private meeting. His stomach had turned anxiously, but he followed, disappearing with them into a medium sized medical observation room and sitting when told. 

When Allura began speaking, he had tried to keep his expression neutral. The longer she spoke, the harder it became. 

"Shiro?" she called.

"I'm fine." He dropped his hands and fixed her with a steady stare. "So Keith...had a break with reality."

"According to the full report Kolivan sent."

His eyes flicked to the Alteans. "Because of the rape." 

It was time to call it what it was. No more dancing around it. 

Allura sighed, her mouth fixed in a stern line. She seemed tired, her expression faltering, her charismatic aura of exuberance wilting. She sat with a heavy thump, casting her eyes downwards. "Kolivan told me out of necessity. He stated that Keith had kept the attack hidden due to some idea of shame. He suspects none of the other paladins know." Her eyes flicked briefly to Shiro's. "Did you know?"

He grimaced. "I suspected, but could never confirm it. Keith and I never got close enough to really talk about anything important, anything that had to do with us or what had happened while I was gone. I didn't want to push him into talking about something so personal when he could barely be near me. We certainly didn't get close enough to talk about sex."

No shock there, given this confirmation of suspicions. 

Coran thumped his chest above his heart, looking defeated. "The sleeplessness, the lack of appetite, his jumpiness, his loathing of physical contact, hallucinations...I didn't know. It's a wonder he managed to make it so long as he did."

How had he not noticed this, Shiro berated himself. He had guessed what Lotor had done; he should have pushed for answers. If he had thought about it, really, truly sat down and mulled it over, he would have known that Keith would have kept his rape a well hidden secret. He would not just keep it a secret, he would lock the memories away, pretend it had never happened, and try to fool everyone, including himself, into believing he was fine. It was a signature trait of his; pretend the bad never happened and move on.

"This is a delicate matter." Allura said, matter-of-factly. "We cannot place blame upon ourselves or on Keith. His fear of shame, however unfounded it was, is understandable. We cannot blame ourselves for not noticing what he hid or not acting when--"

"It's my fault." Shiro blurted.

Coran shook his head. "No, Shiro, it's--"

"It is. That's why Kolivan is sending his physician here, isn't it? There's something wrong with me and I pushed that on Keith. He was already falling apart because of that bastard Lotor and then I came back and forced my own demons on him. No wonder he hates me."

"That is enough!" Allura barked, her eyes suddenly furious. "This is _not_ your fault, Shiro. You adore Keith and would never harm him, that we all know. I know how much Keith loves you; he went to the ends of the universe to find you. He fought like mad to bring you back. What has happened--to you; to Keith--is on Prince Lotor's head. Of that, there is no question."

"But I--"

She leaned forward, placing her warm hand atop is own. "Do you still love Keith?"

"Of course I do! More than anything in this universe."

"Then do yourself and him a favor: place blame where it deserves to be. Forgive Keith, if you are able. More importantly, forgive yourself." 

That was a great thing to ask. Forgiveness had once come easily to him. Bitterness came easier now. Forgiving Keith would be no great chore; many things had already been forgiven. There were some words and deeds he clung to with resentment and when the time came he would confront his mate about them, but until then he still held Keith in his heart with undying devotion. Maybe, if Keith was getting better, he held a place in his mate's heart as well. 

Forgiving himself would be harder. 

He had to leave shortly thereafter, unable to stomach the specifics of the report Kolivan had sent. Knowing how mentally battered his mate was made him sick; he was not strong enough yet to hear the specific details. He needed to calm himself. The alpha was growling dangerously and although he did not mind so much the visions of Lotor with his intestines wrapped around his throat, his thoughts did not need to be any more bloody or violent than they were. His rage was inescapable and fierce without the influence of the alpha.

He turned about in a circle in the hall, lost, uncertain what to do with himself. The training room held some allure, but as angry as he was, he also felt exhausted. The idea of disappearing into the pool or sauna crossed his mind, but he was in no mood to deal with Lance's pettiness, should they cross paths. Food then. His appetite had been returning lately and he and Hunk were on friendly terms once more. Perhaps if he asked prettily, the man would make him some form of pasta.

Before he could dart off, the medical bay door opened and Coran stepped out. "Shiro, wait."

He lifted a brow. "Coran? What is it? Is something wrong?"

The man approached, a weary look upon his face. "I need to tell you. I knew about the attack." Shiro stared. "Keith came to me the day after it occurred, badly injured, and asked for help getting into the tank and for some medicines. I didn't know what to expect, but when I saw the full scan I knew right away. When I confronted him about it, he lied at first."

"I see."

"He came back to me a week later and confessed what had happened."

Shiro did not like that word. Confessed; as if Keith had done something wrong and needed to be purged and cleansed of it. 

"I did what I could to help." Coran frowned, looking him steadily in the eyes. "I put him on a series of anti-depressants and saw him three times a week. He seemed--for a little while, he seemed to be recovering."

He could guess where this story was heading. "And then I came back and he started falling apart." Shiro finished.

To his surprise, Coran shook his head. "No, before you came back. We were on the trail of one of Lotor's officers, closing in on the prison where you were being held. That was when he began to pull away."

"That seems strange."

"I can't account for it, Shiro, but I wanted to come clean. I was a party to Keith's illness. If there is any fault to be had, I own it."

Shiro wished he had a better grasp on his PTSD to know how to handle the parade of guilt every single one of them felt. At some point, the truth would come out to the rest of the paladins and that would only make matters infinitely more difficult. 

"Coran, no one of us is to blame. Like Allura said, the only person who can be blamed is Prince Lotor. We're all just suffering the fallout. I'm...grateful for you looking after Keith in his time of need."

"I wish I had done more."

"You did all you could. He's in good hands now."

He started down the hall.

"You should be with him." Coran called.

Shiro paused, fighting back a grimace. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it two ways." Coran walked over, placing hands on his shoulders. "You should be _with_ him, if you could be; although, I know that that isn't an option at the moment. And you should be where he is, getting the same help and care. We've neglected you again."

After all he had heard that morning, Shiro was not so concerned about himself at the moment. He should be, he knew, but he was busy concocting schemes to find Lotor and make him suffer. In a day or so, sense would fully return and he would fret over his own health, but by then the doctor should have arrived. 

Forcing a smile, he clapped the man on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Coran. Kolivan's physician will be here soon. He'll root out the problem. If I need more attention than that, I'm sure Kolivan will see that help is sent. Let's focus on what we can do for right now."

"You're so strong. You should be proud of yourself, Shiro."

When this was over, when he was better, Keith was stable, and Lotor had paid for his crimes, _then_ he would be proud of himself. He would put things back in their natural order. He had stopped worrying about getting Keith back into his arms and focused on worrying about maintaining his mate's sanity. He felt the same acute fear for himself; romance needed to wait, unless he wanted to end up permanently locked away, a slave to his alpha side.

With a curt nod, he turned and began down the hall. For a brief while--only a short time, he promised himself--he would allow the darker thoughts of the alpha to run wild. Perhaps he would get ideas on how to deal with Lotor when he got his hands on him.

\-------------

Stumbling into the bathroom, Keith doubled over, a great splatter of vomit striking the side of the bowl and the floor as his knees gave out and his head crashed into the wall on the way down. He had only a moment to dwell on the pain before his stomach heaved again and he leaned forward, retching. Outside the door, Knair stood, watching without comment. He had thought nothing of the containers of pills she had brought that morning; they were as innocuous and unassuming as his others. Or so he thought. 

Within ten minutes of his dose, his stomach was shuddering and convulsing. His entire body was heating up, throat spasming as his saliva grew thick. Another five minutes, and his body was protesting whatever new poison he had put into it, heaving every scrap of food left in his stomach from last night's dinner. 

"What's happening?" he snapped peevishly at the woman.

She stared at him steadily. "Your body is unused to the medicines."

"Get me new pills, _now_! I'm not taking these again!"

Her demeanor changed suddenly, growing tense and firm. "If you wish to recover, you will take the pills given to you. You are used to weak medicines that do not alleviate your symptoms. You will do as you are told."

Keith growled, considering arguing further, but another wave of nausea had him clutching the bowl with shaking hands. There had to be a better solution, he bemoaned internally. If he took these pills, would he endure the same vomit torture daily? He did not know if he could stand that. His throat and teeth would certainly complain, even if he did not. 

When the spell seemed passed, Knair led him back to bed and pressed a cool cloth to his sweating forehead. "Rest for thirty dobosh. Your stomach will settle. Get up and move about for another thirty and then go and eat your breakfast. Ryvaina will be waiting to meet you afterwards. She will tell you who to see next."

Either Lira for more checkups or Rakael to begin physical therapy, Keith guessed. He had been introduced to Rakael briefly days before; once Lira and Ryvaina had compiled a full report on his status and suggested recovery practices, he would be placed in her hands. The sooner the better, in his opinion. The women were kind and nurturing and he was always pleased to be among his kin, but he loathed being the subject of such intense focus. He was a rat in their labs. 

"I want to go back." he blurted and wondered a moment later what had prompted the remark.

Knair stared at him. 

"I know I can't. I just--miss my friends. And my mate. I'm worried about him."

She wiped his brow a final time before standing straight. "Of course you are. Go to Ryvaina when you are done with your breakfast."

And with that, she left. Keith stared at the closed door a moment, wondering if he had once been so cold and aloof as that. Likely; he recalled a few choice comments his friends had made when they were young and first starting as Voltron. Cold and practical. It had made him a good leader, he supposed, although he lost a good deal of respect for it. Lead with the heart, they told him--but not too much heart; he was an omega and prone to being emotional. 

He scoffed, laying back in bed. He was the most unemotional of all the paladins. He was a frigid rock. He wasn't sure why he was dwelling again on his stint as leader. What had happened, happened. His time had come and gone. He could not alter the course he had taken and he could not change people's opinions of him. 

_Then why does it still bother me?_

He had no idea. On the upside, he had something to discuss with Ryvaina that didn't revolve around Lotor's assault or his fear of his mate.

\-------------------

Two weeks in and the sickness hadn't left him. It was worst in the mornings, when he first took the pills. Vomiting was unavoidable. By lunch the worst of the nausea had died down, but as soon as he ate, it returned to plague him for the remainder of the day. His complaints of his stomach being torn apart were met with sympathetic, but unmoved stares.

Rather than suffer through Ryvaina's usual session of interrogation--what they called therapy--she took him back to his room and gave him a sedative. Her long fingers wrapped around his thin wrist, holding a small device to his skin, monitoring his heart rate. 

His mind was sluggish, thoughts moving slowly through his brain, barely comprehensible. One thought led to another, to another, to another, until he could no longer trace his path of thought. He had been falling into long bouts of contemplation as of late. The shine of his new home had long since tarnished; he was bored. Ill as he was, there was not much he could do to while the time away; he was banned from training, there was no one about to waste time speaking with, and every other room was some sort of lab or medical facility. There was no where to run to. 

"I need to see Shiro." he said, fighting against the tide of exhaustion trying to drag him down into sleep.

Ryvaina hummed, uncurling her fingers from his wrist and placing his hand over his chest. "When you are well, you can."

"No, I need to see him now. Soon."

"You are not ready for that yet."

He closed his eyes and almost fell asleep. "I need to---have to talk to him."

Ryvaina's voice reached him through a haze, as if he were underwater and she standing above him, calling from the surface. "You are not strong enough to handle your mate's presence. Until you are, you may write to him. No more."

 _Write_ , he thought--the last coherent thought he had before slipping into a deep, consuming sleep. He could write. The question was if Shiro would receive his letter.

\-------------------

Pidge smelled Shiro before she saw him; his anger was potent as a skunk and had a reach of several hallways. As such, she was able to compose herself and steel her resolve before he entered, face set in a stony expression. He smelled rank.

"Pidge." he greeted stiffly.

"Shiro." He stared at her, as if waiting for something. "How are you feeling? Did the doctor find anything yet?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a partial scowl. "I'm fine; no, the doctor has not found anything; I was told that you had a message from Keith that was addressed to me."

"Oh, that."

Shiro clenched his fist as the alpha roared in his head. _Oh that_ , as if it were nothing. It might be nothing to _her_ , but it meant everything to him. 

"Is there a particular reason you're being cruel or are you just falling back into your old ways?" he snapped. 

Her eyes widened and she paused in reaching for the data drive that she had stored the message on. The man was angry, that was obvious, but she had not expected that accusation. Perhaps she should have; Hunk had warned her over a week ago that Shiro was looking to have sit downs with all of them. Their leader had a number of grievances that he wanted to address.

"You want to talk then." she said, leaving the data drive for the moment.

"I had the best relationship with you than I had with anyone else on the ship, which isn't saying much given how you all treated me like shit--"

"Whoa, Shiro! Calm down; let's talk!"

Calm was good. He needed to be calm. He had been calm and collected for days; Coran and doctor were pleased. Unfortunately, as soon as Hunk had spilled that there was a message awaiting him from his wayward mate, the alpha had burst from its hibernation and demanded he seek out what was his. He was exhausted already from the beast's rage, but Shiro was also beyond annoyed.

Forcing a grin, he clenched his fists and put on an air of poise. "Hunk has given me some insight into why you've all been so standoffish and icy, but it can't be tolerated any longer. We're a team. Whatever lingering problems you have, now is the time to let them be known."

Pidge was thrown; this was the last conversation she had expected to be having that day. It was time though, she supposed. "You're right. It's time to move on and focus on Voltron."

Shiro nodded. "I've been alerted to the fact that you all thought that I needed time alone to heal."

"We did."

"That was a wrong assumption."

She huffed softly at his curtness. "How were we to know that? You always disappear on your own to wade through your problems. You never let us in. You always come back to us when you're ready."

"This time wasn't like the rest."

"Again, how were we supposed to know?"

This argument was getting him nowhere; Shiro recognized that fact, even as the alpha demanded that he interrogate her until she broke. Being angry would only push his friends further away. He shook his head, dislodging the monster's most recent tirade.

"Moving past that--why did you all allow Keith pull all that nonsense?"

"That's our fault too now?" Pidge growled, standing. She was a good head shorter than him still, but she was not prepared to sit and take such accusations meekly. 

"You're the sensible one, Pidge. Everything he did, as far as I've heard, was a cry for help, which you all ignored."

"Maybe you're right. Try pinning that on him though. He's as bad as you about hiding things. If Keith wanted to run and hide, that's on his shoulders."

The alpha snapped and he loomed over her suddenly, pointing an accusing finger directly under her nose. "Don't you _dare_ blame him for this!"

Pidge held her breath, fighting against the tide of her frustration. There was a crazed look in the man's eyes that meant she had to be tactful. Shiro was not currently there. Slowly, she turned to her cluttered work space and grabbed the data drive. She extended it warily, as if approaching a wild animal.

"Here." she said quietly. "His message is on here. You can reply to it directly from the tablet I gave you."

He took it without thanks. 

As he was leaving, she called bitterly, "Come and talk to me in a few days when you're feeling better. We can actually discuss things like civil human beings."

\-----------------------------

Sense told him to wait to read the message, to allow the alpha to calm and the voice in his head fall silent before subjecting himself to possible torment. He could not. As soon as the data was in his hand, Shiro had the single-minded drive to open the letter and see just what his mate had to say. Would it be good or bad? Would Keith open up to him at last? Did his mate still miss him?

There were infinite possibilities; he had to know. Tomorrow he could feel guilty about grilling Pidge. Right then, it was about Keith.

There was only one document on the drive and it popped open the instant he connected it to his tablet. An encryption program scanned through the message quickly, converting it from foreign characters to letters. He held the tablet close to his face--closer than necessary--racing through the lines of script, swallowing each word as if it were life-giving water. 

Joy turned to confusion to frustration to sadness as he fumbled his way through Keith's letter. After rereading it multiple times, he came to the conclusion that it was good news and he ought to be happy. The few sentences he could actually make sense of were heart-aching declarations of love, pleas for forgiveness, and some jumbled explanation he could not work through. 

It was less a letter than a testament to how cracked Keith's mind was. Once upon a time, back at the garrison, they had exchanged love letters like the romantic saps they were. He took great pains to find words to describe his devotion to his young mate and each letter he received in return was as lovely as a dream. He had treasured them and kept them stored in a shoe box under his bed. It was trite, but it was wonderful.

The message he read then was a nearly incomprehensible mess of words, slapped together with little to no punctuation and no sense of completeness. One thought led to another, jumping one place to the next, as if Keith could not focus long enough to complete a single thread of thought before moving to the next. Kolivan had said that his mate was struggling with a weak mental state; he held the evidence in his hand. 

But Keith had tried. His mate had obviously struggled, but he had tried and produced a multi page letter. All for him. It was clear to Shiro that it was a love letter. It was not as poised and polished as their old missives, but by god the sentiment was there all the same. 

He rushed to respond, clacking furiously on his tablet, growing frustrated when his hands could not keep up with his mind. Words flooded the screen as he poured his heart out. He ached, knowing that he would at last be able to reach his mate and speak his mind. At last his love would reach Keith. Even forced apart as they were, his mate could still feel his love. 

He whiled hours away on his letter, skipping dinner and working well into the night. Writing, rewriting, adding more mush than could conceivably be held in one human head. He was a hopeless romantic; Shiro readily admitted it. With the letter complete, he wanted to send it immediately, but finally he listened to his good sense and set the tablet aside for the night. There might be more he wished to say, if he gave himself time to think. 

Come morning, he added a few more sweet lines and went in search of Coran.

"I'm not in the habit of letting others read my love letters," he explained, an embarrassed flush upon his cheeks, "but I thought it might be best to have someone who knows about our current situation and isn't so close to the matter read it over. Just so that I don't accidentally say something that would upset Keith."

"Naturally." Coran said, obviously pleased that he had been Shiro's first choice. 

He had shown Coran the letter he had received from Keith and watched the way the man's face fell. They agreed it would be best for the physician Kolivan had sent to review the letter and communicate with the doctors tending to Keith at the base. When Shiro had passed him the tablet with his own letter, the man's smile had leaped back into place.

"Oh, my!" Coran exclaimed, hiding a chuckle.

Shiro felt his cheeks grow warmer. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just surprising. You're so reserved publicly, it's strange to hear you say things like 'my heart aches to be--'"

"Don't read it out loud!"

Miscalculation; he should have kept his letter to himself. Coran's eyes slid to him, shining in mischievous delight, as though they were sharing a great, juicy secret. Shiro growled low in his throat, calling himself a fool and kicking himself mentally. 

"Let me just take that back." he reached for the tablet, but Coran danced away.

"You may want to take out this little bit about wanting to slaughter his enemies and feed him their blood in goblets of gold."

" _What?_ " he snatched the tablet back, scanning through his words. He would not have written such a horrible thing. No such thought had butted into his mind while penning his letter. He had been consumed by love and devotion and---there it was. 

Shiro stared, jaw slack. "I--I don't remember writing that."

"The old alpha trying to help you woo your lover?"

The man had meant it as a joke, but Shiro froze, choking on his own breath. Was that possible? Could the alpha interrupt his thoughts, sliding its own into place without him noticing? The more he thought about it, the more he feared it was true. When the alpha manifested, it took control of his body and left him with nothing but a black spot in his memory. Slipping a thought or two in unnoticed would be light work for a beast capable of erasing his mind.

Grabbing Coran by the arm, he shoved the tablet back in his hand and demanded, "What else? What else is out of place?"

They sat for awhile, reading through his letter, finding hidden messages that he had not meant to sneak in. There was nothing so bad as the first addition Coran had pointed out, but Shiro was startled to see the number of words that had been put into his mouth. He hesitated to consider what Keith would have thought, had he read them. Incredible. He underestimated the alpha. 

Sending his polished letter sent a quiver of pleasure and dread through his stomach. He and his mate were starting down a path to a new beginning, but already they had met roadblocks. Keith's mind would heal, but his own mind was an issue. The alpha was still there. With no real notion as to what was wrong with him, he knew that Keith could not return without fear of the alpha rising up and ruining them both for good.

For good measure, he went in search of the doctor and divulged his latest set of concerns. 

\---------------------------

A month had come and gone and still the sickness plagued him. Keith groaned, pressing his hand against his stomach and pressing down hard, as if the pressure might somehow alleviate him of the heave inducing nausea. According to Knair, he was taking to his medication well. If daily vomit sessions was taking it 'well', he hesitated to think what would have happened if he had taken to the medicine badly. 

The sickness would pass with time, the woman reassured him. His body would grow accustomed to the medicines and, soon enough, she would alter his dosage amount and that would ease his pains as well. 

Small victories were what he had to focus on. The first day he made it through his pills without vomiting, he was ecstatic. There were several moments where his stomach churned and his mouth watered dangerously, but he kept the bile down. When he proclaimed his victory over his stomach to his guards, he was met with pleased expressions and happy keens. They were humoring him of course; no one should be so proud about keeping food in their stomach, unless they were thoroughly broken. Keith had accepted that as well and was pushing past it. He was not the first paladin to break, but he was malleable. He could be put back together. 

The greatest hurdle he met was not nausea or rehabilitation, but boredom. He could not be catered to all hours of the day; the women had very important tasks at the base and when he was not with them, he was wandering halls or amusing himself with audio lessons on Galra history. Writing took up a small bit of his time, but not nearly enough; the letters passed between him and the crew and his mate were sporadic, penned and sent between their missions. 

He longed to be with his team, but Pidge kept him apprised of the going-ons in his absence. He had been distressed to hear that she and Shiro had gotten into an argument, but it had been solved quickly, she assured him. He was a touchy subject between Shiro and the other paladins, but progress was being made in knitting the group back together. The doctor Kolivan had sent was unable to uncover any physical ailments, but they kept running tests. Keith felt torn about that news; Shiro obviously suffered from some sort of illness, but he hated the image of his mate suffering through test after test in a lab, poked and prodded like a rat. Worse than a rat--a prisoner. He could only imagine the anguish Shiro suffered, enduring the same treatment he had nightmares over to that day. 

On a whim, he had sent a letter to the man, expressing his worry over the conditions he faced. If it would prove detrimental to his mental health, he implored Shiro to stop. Whether his words came out so poignant was debatable. Writing to his family had provided him with an outlet for his distress and insight into his mind. He and Ryvaina sat together almost daily, writing out letters or journal logs. While he exercised the demons of his mind, she monitored his growth. He was not ashamed or too proud to admit that his first series of writings were nonsensical drivel. That Shiro had been able to pull anything from his first letters and respond was a miracle. All the same, his mate replied, promising that he was well and was not under any more distress than he could handle. Keith didn't entirely believe that, given their bad habits of hiding personal pains, but he kept his worries to himself for the time being. 

Whether Ryvaina meant to introduce the idea of writing as a healing method, he did not know, but it proved to be the greatest tool he had in reclaiming his mind. Speaking his fears and sorrows and pains aloud was often too much for him to bear, but he could write them. He wrote them badly, but he wrote them. Reaching out to his friends was an anchor that he desperately needed to keep from going mad. 

Reaching out to Shiro had been a far different type of relief. His thoughts were still in disarray, but Keith knew well enough how turbulent their relationship was. He owned that. When he had sent his first letter, he had braced for rejection. What he got in return was a love letter, filled with words of such adoration, he was momentarily stunned and transported to their school days. The man's affection did not wane or falter once; each subsequent letter dripped devotion, stuffed with a hundred pet names and pleas for him to get better so that they might be together again. Keith prayed he could get better; he wanted nothing more than to return to his family and his lover. His body warmed at the thought and he curled around his tablet, reading and rereading every word until he had it memorized. His heart knew what he wanted; alas, his head was still unsure and, hallucinating and confused as he still was, they worried over he and his mate coming together too soon. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a sweet little voice suggested sending a different type of letter, one that would surely please his mate and calm some of the storm broiling between them. 

"Oh, shut up." he groused to himself, his face heating at the idea. "Where have you been for the past four months?" He hadn't heard a peep out of the omega inside him since Shiro's return, save when it was screaming at him to run and hide. And god did it screech. It was like having a blaring alarm inside of his head, constantly going off.

And _now_ it was horny. Keith groaned, praying that he wasn't going into heat. He hadn't been in heat for almost two years; he wasn't sure he was ready for that emotional trip when his emotions were taxed as was. He was better, he conceded, but he wanted to feel like himself before his lust addled mind made overtures to romance. He did not want to be a broken puppet putting on a play with cracked masks. Neither of them deserved that. The only comfort the possibility of heat brought was that he was getting well enough that his body was returning to its natural state. 

Shoving the intrusive thoughts away, he focused on his last word from Shiro. The man's latest letter was brief, his tone weary but pleased, glossing over a rescue mission for some man he had never heard of, but Shiro claimed would be a boon to their cause. Another engineer and, as a side note Shiro added, not nearly as maddening as Slav. What was important, and his mate boasted a tad, was that Voltron had been reformed. Any rumors that Voltron had been vanquished were now well and thoroughly squashed. The defenders of the universe were very much alive and acting. 

Keith had never felt so proud in his entire life. Against all odds, the team had come together again. His mate had finally taken his rightful place as head of Voltron. They were the strongest soldiers he had ever had the honor of meeting. That was truly a victory to celebrate and he had leaped from bed to tell---anyone. 

He was worse than a child, running about in the halls, proclaiming the good news to any he met and clutching his tablet tightly in his hand, in case they doubted and needed proof. Surely the word of the head of Voltron himself would sway any doubters. No one questioned him. When he asked where is guard was and where to find Kolivan, he was directed to the bottom levels of the base, where the laboratories were. 

He thought nothing of it as he made his way there, nearly bouncing in delight. They too would be pleased to hear the good news. He was certain that Ryvaina would confirm his notion that Shiro was recovering well if he was able to properly lead the team to form Voltron. When he entered the lab where his guardians were holed up, his radiant smile was met with harsh scowls and dismayed expressions. His joy withered.

"What's wrong?" Keith asked, drifting to the laboratory desk where the Blades gathered.

He had never been down so low in the base; the rooms where Ryvaina treated him and he met with Rakael for physical therapy were all on the upper levels. Knair worked down here, he knew, crafting medicines and performing lab work. It was strange to see them all gathered together, especially with Kolivan. Something of great importance had happened, he surmised, placing his tablet aside and drawing closer.

When his approach was met with nothing more hostile than a displeased look, he pressed to Ryvaina's side and peered at the screens they were watching. They were enthralled; he was curious. At first glance, he thought nothing of the video they were watching. There was a heavily muscled warrior amid a horde of drones in a battle arena. His mouth twitched into a frown, reminded of the nightmares of the arena Shiro had. The drones descended, weapons flashing and bullets flying. The warrior floundered, falling to his knees in moments. Almost, he turned away from the screen, expecting to watch the man be torn to pieces, but Kolivan pointed suddenly.

"There." he growled.

Keith squinted at the screen as they all drew closer. Another man, heavily armored and with a shield, had drawn up behind the warrior, carrying a vial of some golden glowing liquid. He plunged the needle into the warrior's thick thigh before leaping away, out of sight. The reaction was near instantaneous. A number of thick veins appeared on the man's forearms as he flexed, rising to his feet and roaring. The mighty sound startled Keith and he reeled back, feeling a quiver of unfounded fear tremble within him. Ryvaina steadied him with a soothing hand on his back, but her attention remained fixed. Taking several calming breaths, he returned to the screens.

"Incredible." Knair whispered in awe.

Kolivan grunted, displeased. "They are growing clever."

The slaughter was inspiring. No bullet or blade could stop the man. Drone after drone fell to his rage until he was the last one standing. But the man's wrath did not end. He stood amid the carnage, screaming his fury to the sky, throwing the remnants of his enemies about in a fit. A contingent of living guards rushed in with tasers and a number of devices to subdue the man, but he would not go down. More blood flowed.

"What's happening?" Keith asked, pressing his hand to his stomach to settle its unhappy knotting. "What was that injection they used on him?"

"It is a new drug Prince Lotor has commissioned." Knair answered, turning from the screen and walking to what he assumed was her work desk. From a locked drawer she produced a small container of what appeared to be the same glowing amber liquid.

Instinctively, Keith took a step away.

Knair brought the sample to the table for the others to investigate, even as he skirted around to the other side, maintaining distance. They spoke among themselves, voices gruff and alarmed. It was a potent drug, Knair claimed. And dangerous, Kolivan added; there was no known cure. 

"I've had some success neutralizing the potency, but it is not perfect. It is no cure." Knair said.

Keith remained silent, eyes drawn to the screen where the video still played. The man continued to rage, more victims falling to his bloodlust.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked again.

The Blades looked at him, as if they had forgotten his presence. Kolivan growled, but stopped himself short before it grew threatening. "It is the prince's latest weapon. It is a drug that has the ability to turn alphas feral."

"Feral?"

The man gestured to the screen. "Like that beast: no control, no conscience, a slave to his primal urges."

And there was no cure. Keith felt pity for the man on the screen and for any who fell victim to the prince's testing. He recalled coming across a chemical not unlike this; the user would gain a great deal of physical strength and power, but remain in full control of all their mental faculties. It was a short-lived high though. The chemicals had a brief life and the user was often left weaker than before. That did not seem to be the case with this deadly new drug. 

"Feral..." 

He hadn't known such a thing was possible, to turn a civilized alpha into a monster. Briefly, he wondered what a feral omega would be like. Likely a disgusting, begging mess, bending over for every alpha it finds and crying for a knotting. He made a face, pushing the thought away. 

He listened as the Blades discussed the ramifications such a drug could have on the war and the dangers it would bring, should it be spread in the universe, made readily available to all of the empire's allies. It would be a great challenge to fell a feral alpha; the video proved that. A score of men had fallen to the beast, and that was after he had razed an army of attacking drones. He would have to send word to Voltron to be on the lookout for this new danger. 

For a long while he stood mute, absorbing all he heard. If Kolivan was concerned, he knew that the matter was grave. When Knair placed the sample aside, he stared at it. Such a small amount of chemicals and yet it had the power to bring a man to his knees, to steal his mind, and transform him into a monster. It baffled him. The injection the subject on the screens had taken was less than what they held there. 

On a whim, he reached for the container, popped the cap off, and sniffed. He had a strong nose; perhaps he might be able to help identify some of the compounds. He took a deep sniff and--dropped the container. Kolivan and his guards looked up as he cried out, stumbling back and losing strength in his legs. They rushed to preserve what they could from the spill even as Ryvaina went to his side and pulled him to his feet.

Kolivan huffed at him dangerously, rightfully upset, but before the man could launch into a tirade over his carelessness, he blurted,

"That's Lotor's smell."

Ryvaina stroked down his spine, a soothing gesture she had found worked to calm him. "Be calm. Explain yourself."

Keith took a moment, inhaling several deep breathes and reminding himself that he was safe. "That's Lotor's smell." he repeated. "Whatever those chemicals are, they come from Lotor. Or Lotor smells like them. Whichever. But that's Lotor's smell. I'd know it anywhere."

The Blades looked between themselves. The annoyed furrow in Kolivan's brow eased some. There was precious little of the liquid left, but he passed it between the others, sniffing.

"It is pungent and unpleasant, but I cannot say what the source is." Lira remarked as she handed the sample to Knair.

"I have never met the prince." Ryvaina said, taking a deep inhale when it was passed to her.

Keith shied away from the vial, nose turned. He had hoped to never smell that foul scent again. 

"Nor have I." Kolivan added, also sniffing. "You are certain that this is the prince's scent?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Keith snapped. "I've spent the last two years trying to forget it! I've had his scent stuck in my nose since--since--"

Ryvaina's hand returned to his back. "Calm."

Keith growled, clenching his fists. "It's Lotor. There's no doubt about it."

While the others chattered among themselves earnestly, conjecturing what it could possibly mean that Lotor's smell was entwined with this dangerous new weapon, Ryvaina led him to a chair and sat him down. His breathing had grown harsher and she made a subtle keen at him as she took his wrist and checked his pulse. 

Keith held his head in his free hand, the rush of anxiety leaving him lightheaded. One sniff and he was cowering. And he had thought that he was making progress. 

"You're alright." Ryvaina said, gently placing his hand on his thigh.

He did not respond. He knew he was alright. He knew, but his body was not cooperating in remaining calm. Reminding himself that Lotor was not near, that he hadn't even seen the prince in months, did not sway his anxiety. He hadn't felt so sick since--

Keith jerked, his mind snapping to attention. "Oh, no."

The women scrambled to restrain him as he ran to the table, frantically searching through the tablets and reams of reports. 

"Where is it?" he demanded, snapping at Lira as she tugged firmly on his arm in an attempt to disrupt him. "The list of bases where you found this in, where is it?! I heard you say you had a list!"

"Step back!" Kolivan roared, a hint of threat in his tone. 

Keith paused, his blood boiling and nerves aflame. He could not stop, not when he had been struck with the worst of suspicions. Lira and Knair grabbed him by the arms and forced him back, ignoring his frustrated cries and demands. He turned imploring eyes to Kolivan, babbling at him until he was near tears.

Ryvaina was demanding he stay calm, but he could not. When Kolivan begrudgingly passed a tablet to him, he broke from Lira and Knair's grasp and tore it from the man's hands. He scrolled through the list like mad, eyes scanning wildly as he fought to control his breathing. At his side, Ryvaina was practically screaming that he sit and allow her to administer a sedative. He didn't know what she said. He didn't care. Everything ceased to matter as his eyes landed on the name he had sought. 

Orsoni 12 Base. Where they had found--

"Oh, god!" He dropped the tablet and ran for the door, fear roaring in his veins, the only thought in his mind getting to the dock where he could commandeer a ship that would take him back to the castle, back to his mate. "Shiro!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had spent so much time hurting; now he needed to help heal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! That was a great little break. All recharged! Let's see...someone asked about my tumblr. It's the same name as here, kittypox. I hope you stop by! (But seriously, it is odd over there. We have omegaverse AUs out the ying yang and general weirdness). Aaaaand, lesse, this fic actually hasn't changed much since I planned it, it just got A LOT longer than planned. I love the plot so I want to do it justice, not butcher it because I want it done. 
> 
> Welp, let's get back to it! Let's see what unfolds!

Fingers clamped around his ankle like a vice, forcing him back as he scrambled onto the wing of a ship. Keith growled loudly, teeth snapping as he glared over his shoulder at Ryvaina. She returned the harsh look, continuing to pull. A flailing kick freed his leg and he turned partially, clinging to the side of the cockpit.

"I said stop!"

"Why?" he snapped, her words lost beneath the roar of blood in his ears. He could not focus. All he could think of was Shiro. 

"You need to stop!" Ryvaina demanded, maintaining her hold.

Keith scoffed, attempting to crawl into the ship. He was yanked back a second later with enough force to knock him flat on his belly on the wing of the ship. He scrambled, trying to get his legs beneath him while Ryvaina continued to pull. Wild desperation lent him the strength to deliver a kick to her hand and free himself again. She hissed angrily then climbed onto the wing herself as he tumbled into the cockpit and began flight preparations.

"Stop!"

"Why?!" he demanded, sparing no look as he worked.

"You are not ready to go to your mate. You may be compromised, all of our hard work lost. Think!"

She was right, Keith knew it. He was not yet fully recovered and, although his progress was admirable, he had a long way to go. The cracks in his mind were mending slowly, crevices knitting together to become whole once more, but one great shake could split him apart again, worse than before. 

He didn't care. This was not about him, it was about Shiro. He had abandoned his mate to the care of emotionally stunted children and a single doctor who had little to work with in caring for the man. Kolivan's words rang in his head, warning him how unreliable Altean technology was. If there was any truth to the man's fears, Shiro had been left to drift helplessly in a sea of stars. 

"Let me go now, or I will summon the Red and Black lions to burn this base to ashes."

She scowled at the threat. "You would not dare to make us your enemies."

"I would move heaven, earth, and the entire universe for my mate." He bared his teeth once more. "If you think I would hesitate one second to bring the full might of the lions of Voltron down on your head to save him, you are sorely mistaken."

A tense silence passed as they stared one another down, daring the other to speak first. Time was wasting away; Keith could not wait any longer. 

"I have to go." he said firmly. "I have to get Shiro and bring him back here. He needs help."

Ryvaina slipped beside him inside the ship. "There is no question of that, but you are not the one to fetch him."

"I'm going, whether you like it or not." He looked at her, eyes burning in fierce determination. "He's my mate. I need to protect him. He is as much mine as I am his. We take care of each other and I am not going to leave him to battle against that feral monster alone."

God, the alpha. No wonder Shiro could not control himself at times; his once quiet, peaceful alpha id had been tormented and tortured, butchered and prodded until it had turned into a mindless beast. How could Shiro stand having that thing thrumming in his veins, smashing around in his head? However loud his frightened omega side was, he doubted it compared to the roaring of an enraged alpha. The alpha was slowly taking over and if he did not get to Shiro quickly, his mate could be lost.

The terrible thought sent a shiver down his spine and he punched the controls. "Either strap in or get out." he demanded. 

Ryvaina growled softly in the back of her throat. He was no longer playing the part of docile cub, as he had for months; at the moment, he was worried mate. She had expected this day would come, when he would no longer be able to ignore the thrall of his long lost mate and run back to the paladins. The day had come much sooner than expected though; dire news had forced their hand. 

"You are not fit to go alone." she declared, settling in unhappily. If he was intent on this foolishness, she would accompany him, if only to preserve the days of tedious healing they had spent on the man. Should the alpha mate prove to be too much for him to handle, she would intervene immediately. 

The hangar door opened and the remainder of his guard ran in. Had they wanted to, Keith knew that together they would have been able to drag him from the ship and subdue him. The idea seemed to be passing between the party; he could see it in their eyes as they looked first to him, to the ship, then to Ryvaina. She held his fate in the palm of her hand and he turned to Ryvaina with a desperate expression.

She huffed in disapproval, but put up a staying hand. "We will go and retrieve the alpha."

"Is that wise?" Knair asked, eyeing him critically. Ryvaina, thankfully, did not reply. 

"Please," Keith begged, "have something prepared for him when we return. Whatever cure you have--"

"There is no cure."

"Whatever you have! I can't lose him again!"

They stared at him, unmoved, stoic as stone, pillars of practicality. Emotions did not move the Blade of Marmora. They were known for their cold, calculated nature. Emotions, if anything, were their enemy. There was some wisdom in their methods; emotions made him weak, made him think too much, made him desperate and act on that desperation. Shiro had always pulled raw emotion from him, even when he didn't want to feel. _Especially_ when he didn't want to feel. 

Knair did not respond to his final plea. Keith shook his head, slamming the hatch shut. The engines burst to life and seconds later they were gone. Cold as they were, Keith thought that Knair would submit to his request and prepare some sort of remedy for Shiro, if only because Shiro was the head of Voltron and without him the rebellion would be dead. He refused to hold any delusions that she would do it for any love she or the other guard members bore him. He was not their friend or cub or even their teammate--he was a broken stray their leader had graciously taken in and they had been assigned to care for. Practicality was all that drove the Blades. Thankfully, practically demanded that they see Shiro safe.

\------------------------

The intercom crackled, disrupting Shiro from his reading. He was still weeks behind on his reading of battle logs and mission dossiers, but he had been making respectable progress. With the voice in his head mostly quiet, he had the will and ability to concentrate on slogging through the tedious reports. He had been impressed with the detailed files Keith kept, even if he continued to hold some trepidation over their existence. 

"Pidge?" he called, glancing to the speaker mounted on the wall above his desk.

"We just received a radio hail." 

"A hail?" _Who could it be this time_ , he wondered. 

They were currently loitering in a backwater solar system with very little life. Not even an occasional cargo ship crossed their path. It was a safe place to lay low and recuperate, which was exactly what they had been doing for the past three days. His suspicions were aroused, until the speaker crackled again and Pidge said,

"It's Keith. And--some woman. They're on their way here. They say it's an emergency."

" _Keith?_ "

The tablet slipped from his hands to the floor, the screen cracking as it struck unyielding metal. His heart leaped to his throat happily. His mate was returning! Then the rest of Pidge's message sunk in. He was returning with a woman and claimed there was an emergency. In the back of his mind, the alpha sat up, interested. The beat of his heart changed from a steady, comfortable thump to an anxious hammering. 

"What's wrong? Is he alright? Did he sound hurt?"

"He sounds...worried. Anyway, they'll be here in a few hours. The woman asked that your doctor be ready to depart." 

Shiro hesitated. Keith was coming back just to retrieve his doctor? That seemed illogical; anyone could come and fetch the doctor. The doctor could leave himself. The alpha hissed suspiciously. He would have to get to the bottom of the matter. 

"We'll be ready to greet them when they arrive."

"Got it. ETA four hours."

The room fell silent. He kicked the noisemaker at his feet until it coughed and sputtered, beginning to hum steadily, filling the room with a constant drone. He took a deep breath, shushing the alpha as best he could. The energy in his mind was undulating in expectation. The mate was returning. Soon, Keith would be with him--

\--on his knees; on his back; crying for his alpha; pleading for more; begging to be rutted, knotted and---

"Stop that!" he screamed, slamming the flat of his hand against his temple.

He would not tolerate those thoughts; those urges were what had driven Keith away in the first place. Painful as it would be, if he felt that he could not control the alpha, he would keep distant. Shaking his head clear, he picked up the tablet and tried to focus. It was an impossible task of course, with his thoughts fully occupied by his mate. 

With his reading thoroughly interrupted, he took to pacing the confines of his room. When that proved to do little calming the tempest in his mind, he moved to the halls, wandering in circles and moving in and out of rooms like a listless spirit. What exactly he was waiting for, he did not know. When they arrived, it was probable Keith would not even wish to see him, much less speak to him. There was no sense in getting his hopes up for a much overdue reunion when he knew that his mate still suffered.

A deep frown pulled at Shiro's lips and he returned to his room, taking up his tablet once more. Flicking the reports aside, he instead pulled up the folder of letters he had received from Keith. The frown was momentarily banished. It was warming, seeing the progress Keith's writing had made in the short span of a few weeks. There was still vast room for improvement, but he could now read the letters and no longer struggled to decipher meaning. The art was lacking, but the love was there. He hoped that the women attending to his mate were as pleased with his growth as he was.

The thought gave him pause; perhaps the woman accompanying Keith was one of his doctors. If so, he'd be eager to meet with her. How much she would divulge to him, he did not know, although there did not seem to be any type of Hippocratic oath elsewhere in the universe. Honor, however, might keep her bound to silence.

A firm knock on his door startled him and he turned just as Hunk walked in, a platter of food in hand, a pleased smile on his face.

"Did you hear? Keith's coming back!"

Shiro returned the warm smile. "Yeah, Pidge told me awhile ago. It doesn't sound like a pleasure calling though. She said he sounded anxious and that he was bringing someone with him."

"One of the Blades?"

"Must be."

"Hmm." Hunk placed the platter on the desk before Shiro and stepped back, dropping onto the man's bed. "Guess we'll find out soon enough what that's all about. What about you? Has the doctor found anything yet?"

Shiro took a moment to examine the plate of food. A small cup of cheerily color fruit say beside a bowl of cream, joined by a frighteningly bright dish of cheese covered pasta. Had he forgotten dinner again? He admonished himself for such an oversight; he needed to take better care of himself.

Taking up the accompanying fork, he swiveled in his chair to face Hunk. "Nothing new to report yet, unfortunately. He's still concocting tests."

That sounded miserable to Hunk. More than anyone else on board the ship, Shiro hated being stuck in the medical bay, subject to tests. It was little wonder, with how often he was captured and subjected to the galra method of torture. The man still refused to open up about what had happened this recent time, but Hunk was patient. 

"Are you feeling any better at least? You look like you're sleeping more."

"Yes," Shiro offered warily between bites, "I suppose I am." 

He did not mention how the alpha had started leaping around excitedly at the news of Keith's return. None of the others knew how vivid his alpha id was, screaming and manipulating him at its whim. He prayed it wasn't a mistake, keeping that fact from them. When he had confided in Allura, she had stared at him steadily and asked him honestly if he felt it would become an issue. At the time, with Keith beyond his reach and the alpha no longer obsessing over the man, he had felt confident enough to say that he did not think it would be a problem. They agreed though that if it began to get out of hand, he would need to disclose the truth to the others.

"Shiro?"

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"You miss him, huh?"

Shiro blinked. "Of course I do. I spent the last three years dreaming of the day I could come back to Keith. And when I got here--" he shook his head again, letting out a despondent sigh, "--he was falling apart. And now _I'm_ falling apart."

There was no arguing that, Hunk thought. They had all hoped that Shiro's return would be the needed push for Keith to pull himself together and set his course straight. What a horrid shock it had been to see that not only did Keith reject his mate, but he went out of his way to make both of their lives miserable. He had never seen Keith behave in such a destructive manner, even with his hunting. And Shiro--well, he had already vented his frustrations about how unlike himself the man had been over the past months. At least Shiro had opened up enough to confide in him that something had happened while imprisoned that made him act that way. Beyond that vague, near useless explanation though, the man was mute on the subject. 

"You know," he said gently, "when I was a kid I used to struggle with depression. The kids at school and in the neighborhood would taunt me relentlessly because of my weight. They made it their job to terrorize me."

"That's horrible, Hunk."

He shrugged casually. "I ran home from school crying almost everyday and I would sit in my grandma's lap and just sob it out. And she always told me, 'when you've hit the bottom, there's no place else to go but up'. I was a kid back then, so I had no clue what she meant, but once I got older I started to figure things out. The kids didn't get any nicer, but I learned how to overcome it."

Shiro stared at him, a welcoming, if not confused expression on his face.

"What I'm getting at is that even if things are bad now--and admittedly I don't think they've ever been this bad--it can only get better from here. So Keith hit rock bottom. Now he's in the hands of a bunch of doctors and he's making strides in recovery. So you've fallen too. We're here for you. You're getting better too. It's only getting better."

A soft smile lifted the corners of Shiro's mouth. He was immensely relieved to have Hunk on his side once more; he needed the kind of eternal optimism that Hunk dispensed. Where he saw an eternal yawning pit of despair and loneliness, his friend saw a bridge to another side, a side that was brighter and happier than he could ever dream. If Hunk saw a happy end for them, he would try with all his might to believe in it.

He opened his mouth to speak just as the door slid open and Pidge walked in.

"There you guys are!" She shot them both a smile and hopped onto the bed beside Hunk. "How are you feeling, Shiro?"

He smiled wanly. "Anxious."

"Don't be; they wouldn't let him come back if he wasn't better."

"I don't think he's coming back, per say. Just visiting."

Pidge waved her hand dismissively. "Semantics."

"Did you recognize the lady he was with?" Hunk asked.

She shook her head. "No clue; one of his guards, I suppose. They didn't act remotely like friends."

"Oh?" Shiro pushed his finished plate aside. "What makes you say that?"

"They were arguing pretty hotly. I'm fairly certain I heard Keith call her a cunt."

He stared. "Keith called--Keith would _never_ call someone a--"

"I'm just telling you what I heard. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they were speaking in Galran. He can do that now, you know."

Shiro _did_ know. Over the years, his mate had struggled on and off to pick up the language, eager to share some part of the galra culture with his kin. There was very little the Blades could give, save a few history lessons and the basics of the language. Keith studied desperately, but he had never grasped the harsh, guttural language. Or so he had thought. When he had returned, he had hung close to Keith's side like a lost dog and what a shock it had been to hear his mate randomly spout off at Kolivan in Galran. 

Time to turn this conversation away from Keith; he was growing more nervous with each passing minute.

"How is Lance doing?" he asked Hunk. 

The man made a face. "He's--working hard on his apology."

Pidge snorted. "Are you sure it's an apology and not another tirade?"

Hunk made another face. "It's--part apology, but also scolding."

"As long as he starts talking to me." Shiro sighed. "Once the door is open, he and I can work on our relationship."

They all nodded, sitting quietly for a moment.

"At least we can form Voltron." Shiro said.

Again they nodded. That was a grand victory they had claimed. Rumors had begun to surface around the galaxies that Voltron had been vanquished, the paladins killed or exiled for their treachery. The empire had been growing bolder in their absence. They were all very pleased to squash those rumors and show the true might of Voltron and the rebellion. The empire was back on alert.

\-----------------

Pidge and Hunk were trying to keep up with him, but Shiro had a far greater stride than either of them. He was halfway down the second hall while they were still stumbling out of his room. Amid their discussion of alien spices and whether giant rollypolly bugs counted as a crustacean delicacy of lobster caliber, Allura had opened up a communication line, her happy face appearing between them and announcing the arrival of the Blade ship. 

Whether it was his own mind-numbing joy that spurred him or the alpha's eagerness or a mixture of both, Shiro did not know; the only thought in his head was Keith. He was up and out of his seat in less than a second, intent on getting to his mate. His heart skipped a giddy beat as he ran, desperate to know what had brought his mate back. Was it because of him? He prayed it was. Sense told him that it was too soon for Keith to return, but that logic did nothing to sway his rabid hope.

He faltered a split second as a faint echo reached his ears, a cry from the east end of the castle, where the hangars were. His name. He quickened his pace.

"Shiro!"

His breath caught in his throat and he croaked, "Keith?"

The call came again. "Shiro!"

"Keith!"

They collided around a turn, both running too fast to hear the slam of the others boots upon the floor. Shiro stumbled back a number of steps, catching Keith beneath the arms and fighting to keep them both on their feet. His mate's hands scrabbled on his chest, feet tangling with his own. It was luck more than skill that kept them balanced and not laid out on the floor in a heap of limbs. 

"Baby." He moved a hand to the small of Keith's back, holding him firmly. The urge to lean forward and kiss his mate was strong, but he fought against it. "Are you alright?"

Keith groaned softly, less effected by the collision than the sudden wash of smells. There was no doubt in his mind any longer; Shiro smelled of Lotor and those horrid chemicals. His poor mate had been battling against a feral beast in his mind for he did not know how long and no one had been there to help him. He had failed Shiro as a mate.

The sudden frown that appeared on Keith's face alarmed Shiro. He smelled the man's sadness and the tart tang of fear. He was abruptly aware of how small and frail Keith still seemed. Standing before him in a pair of what Shiro realized was a set of his own missing clothing, swimming in the sagging shirt and sweatpants, he appeared more sick than he had whence leaving.

"Keith? Are you alright? Why are you here?"

The touch of hands upon his face was unexpected. Breath stuck painfully in Shiro's chest as Keith caught his face between his small hands and traced his thumbs across the rough surface of his cheeks, ghosting over the jagged scar across his nose. Emotion quivered in his mate's eyes, as if Keith desperately wished to say something. _What is it?_ He waited, hoping Keith would speak.

"Shiro."

He swallowed heavily, face still caught between the man's hands. "Yes?"

"You need to come with me."

He hesitated a moment to speak, placing a hand atop Keith's, pressing it more firmly against his flesh. "Go with---?"

A shrill scream and stern command bellowed at them down the hall forced them apart. Keith turned his head, a guilty expression turning his features as they watched a tall, lanky Blade member barrel towards them. That would be the other guest, Shiro thought. Judging by the fierce scowl on her face, she was none too pleased at the scene she intruded upon

As soon as she came upon them, she grasped Keith by the shoulder and forced him back from Shiro, placing her own body between them as a barrier. Shiro groaned in disappointment, but refrained from making any comment as her burning gaze fell on him. Beneath her eyes, he withered, feeling as if he were being pinned down and dissected. Her eyes roved over his body, searching for something. Whether she found what she was looking for or not, he did not wish to know. Keith attempted to step closer, reaching a hand for him, but she snapped at him and he shied back.

_Play the leader_ , he reminded himself. They all needed to gain control over themselves and ease the awkward situation they found themselves in. "Are you one of Keith's doctors?" he asked gently.

Her mouth turned down in a snarl. "Yes." she replied curtly.

"Don't take it out on him." Keith growled.

He was in the middle of a battle of will, Shiro saw. He tried again to speak, but he was cut off as the two began bickering, their argument quickly growing from snide, biting comments, to screams in Galran. Keith appeared to be losing, his language skills not yet adept enough to keep up with her as he jumped between languages when he could not find the appropriate words. 

The woman growled at Keith's obstinate attitude, reaching to pull him away, but he jumped back, pressing to Shiro's side. Immediately, the man's arm came around his waist, anchoring him there. Shiro had not thought that her expression could grow any fiercer, but the look in her eyes promised punishment.

Risk be damned, Keith was not going to be bullied when he was this close to getting Shiro the help the man direly needed. All during the journey to the castle Ryvaina had berated him for his recklessness and warned him that, should he press her, he would regret it. Let her threaten, he thought to himself. He did not expect a mateless spinster to understand his need to get to his mate. If he could find Shiro, hold the man in his arms, and bring him back to the base, then not only would his own wounds be soothed, he knew Shiro's would begin healing as well. If he had to be punished for his loyalty, so be it. He was due a little trouble. 

The sooner they returned to the base though, the better.

"Let's just go." he said, easing away from his mate when the toxic smell began to pluck at his nerves. 

Ryvaina continued to glower, eyes flicking between them. "We need our physician."

"Page him to the hangar."

He did not wait for a response, instead taking Shiro by the hand and tugging intently. A brief thought entered Shiro's mind to go and pack, but his mate was staring at him intently, as if their lives depended on them leaving right that instant. Perhaps it did. He still did not know why Keith had come and why he was suddenly being commanded from the castle. Perhaps matters were more dire than he knew. 

Slipping past the woman, he adjusted his hold on Keith's hand, feeling his mate's fingers curl tighter around his own. However dire the situation, he could see the obvious glimmer of hope through it all. Whatever had happened, it had spurred Keith to come and fetch him. Despite whatever trials his mate was facing, he pushed through it and had come to find him. 

\-----------------

There was a brief parting ceremony as the rest of the crew came to see what the commotion was about. Lance cast a suspicious glance at Shiro as he hugged Keith goodbye for a second time. Shiro sighed, ignoring the look and saying his farewells to Hunk and Pidge, who had graciously ran back to his room and packed a bag of clothes and his tablet. 

"You're going to get better." Pidge said, quiet, but pleased.

"I hope so..."

Hunk slapped his back and hugged him fiercely. "I'm gonna miss you! But Keith will take care of you!"

There was no need to point out that in actuality he would be in the hands of the Blade's and, were he to judge by the one woman's reactions, would not be anywhere near Keith. Instead, he smiled as widely as he could and returned their affectionate embraces, promising to keep in touch as best he could and report his recovery. When he drifted towards Keith, Lance glared, earning a harsh flick to the ear from Keith.

"Leave him alone." Keith warned, to which Lance huffed. 

Shiro sighed. "It's fine." It was far better behavior than Lance had exhibited in the days prior.

He climbed into the back of the ship with the physician who had been attending him, taking a deep breath and securing his harness. In the front, the woman was hissing something to Keith. Were he to guess by the annoyed roll of his mate's eyes, he would say she was issuing another round of reprimands. He was glad to be omitted from the verbal match and sank back into the seat, eyes flicking from person to person, darting over the buzzing ship controls, taking in the outside world as the ship turned and then lurched to life. 

When they were safely departed, Keith opened a line of communication to the castle. "Allura, would you be so kind as to open a wormhole to the Gallera galaxy? I don't think any of us want to be in here longer than we have to be."

The female galra scowled, an expression he returned with as much vigor.

Allura's face appeared briefly, glancing between the two before finding Shiro tucked away in back, trying to avoid notice. He shrugged at her curious stare. "Of course I can. You'll be there in no time. Perhaps we'll follow in a day or so. Just to check in."

"That sounds fine by me." Keith replied quietly. He was suddenly not so eager to be amid his kin.

A portal opened before them, a yawning beacon of white light that Ryvaina threw them into, jerking the ship so hard the lot of them were slammed backwards. The strap over Keith's belly dug in sharply and he cringed, feeling his nausea rise. His mind numbing concern of getting to his mate's side had left him temporarily untouchable. No pain bothered him. It all came crashing back then and he doubled over with a groan, clutching his belly as his head swam from dizziness, stomach lurching indignantly.

"Keith?"

He glanced back to find Shiro staring at him, brows drawn in concern. 

"I'm fine; it's just my medication. It makes me sick."

They stared steadily at one another a moment.

"What happened to the side of your head?"

"Hmm?" Shiro's hand flew to his temple; he winced subconsciously, feeling at the tender flesh where he had slapped earlier that evening, forcing the alpha into submission. "It's--just an accident. Nothing to worry about."

He did worry, whether his mate said so or not. It wasn't like Shiro to be clumsy, so he guessed that the injury was from some mission. Craning his body, Keith reached back, intent on running his fingers across the inflamed skin. Just as the tips of his fingers were about to make contact, Ryvaina crushed his wrist in her hand and forced him back to his spot. 

Disbelief ran wild in her eyes as she hissed at him in Galran, chastising and threatening him in the same breath. No touching. Keith supposed it was a wise idea. In such closed quarters as they were in, it would not do to fall into a fit or trigger an alpha episode in Shiro. Hands to himself. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat, turning his gaze away and keeping his mind and hands busy by braiding his hair.

He could feel Shiro's gaze burning into the back of his neck, but refused to look. His resolve was crumbling and he did not know if he could stop himself from doing something reckless, should he look back.

\-------------------------

When the ship landed, Kolivan was at the head of an impressive procession of Blade members. Shiro had never seen so many in a single space, save for war activities. Their coming must have been a great affair to the base. That worried him. Keith circled around to stand close to his side, maintaining enough distance that his female guard did not snap at him further. He wanted to reach out and take his mate's hand, to gain some reassurance that all was well, but Keith looked as apprehensive as he. 

Kolivan stepped forward; he did not offer to shake hands, which worried Shiro further. "Paladin. We are much obliged to have you here."

"I think I am the one who should be grateful." he tried to smile, but it wavered as curiosity got the better of him. "What's going on?"

Many of the Blade members exchanged a look.

The woman who had come with Keith stepped forward. "We did not brief him yet. The matter was handled tactlessly."

"He's here." Keith snapped. "And we're all safe." He stopped short of demanding that they stop tarrying and get Shiro to a medical exam room immediately, wary of offending Kolivan. He did not try to delude himself into thinking that they would be understanding of his panic. He had likely made enemies of all his caregivers. Ryvaina would never look kindly upon him again, he was sure.

Kolivan grunted at his brusque words, turning his body slightly and beckoning over a team of men. They circled Shiro, bodies tense and poised for violence. Shiro's hackles rose, the alpha within standing up and roaring indignantly at the unprompted threat. 

Sensing the change in his mate's scent immediately, Keith moved as close as he dare to. "What is this for?" he snapped. 

"Precaution." Kolivan said simply. "Alpha paladin, you have been compromised by one of Prince Lotor's bioweapons. It is imperative that we begin treatment upon you immediately."

"Bioweapon?" Shiro echoed. "Do you mean...?"

"An injection of fluid that you may have mistaken for quintessence."

Light of recognition came to Shiro's eyes. It was all the confirmation Kolivan needed. With a firm nod of his head, he ordered the group of men to escort Shiro to the lower decks where he would be quarantined and tended to. 

The alpha raged, but Shiro knew he had to remain to calm. Something was horribly wrong with him, but they knew what it was. Finally, after months and months of suffering the tormenting voice inside his head, of being plagued by visions and uncharacteristic rage, someone knew what was wrong with him. Much as he disliked the idea of being trapped in another cell, he moved forward readily. Salvation was at hand. He could suffer confinement for that.

A scuffle behind them made him pause and he turned just after two heavyset Blades grabbed Keith by the arms and began forcing him to move.

"What?" His protective instincts burst to life, momentarily forgetting his own needs. 

"Let go!" Keith demanded, planting his feet firmly. His resistance was weak compared to the strength of his kin and he had used up all the good will they held for him. Any plea he made now would fall on deaf ears, but he made demands regardless. "Let me go with him! Let me go!"

Ryvaina strode over, face cold and slack. "You will be taken to your room."

"Let me go with him!"

Shiro watched helplessly as his mate was dragged away, screaming and fighting each step of the way. The only thing keeping him from breaking free of his own guard and pursuing was the knowledge that Keith was safe in their hands and, at the moment, he was still a threat to his mate's health. His heart ached to stand idly while his lover was forced from his presence, but it was for the best. He chanted the line to himself, a grounding mantra. _It's for the best. It's for the best._

He could still hear Keith's screams minutes later. 

"He will be fine. He was not fit to leave the base, but he forced his way free." 

Shiro looked to Kolivan, alarmed. "Is it my fault?"

"Fault is a strong word. You are bound mates. It is expected that he would run to comfort you when he knew you were in need." Without a beat of hesitation, he swept his hand towards the elevator. "This way."

Swallowing heavily, Shiro cast a glance to the hall his mate had disappeared down. All would be revealed soon. He need only be patient. Keith was there. Keith was safe. _He_ was safe. They were both safe. Offering Kolivan a shaky smile, he began towards the elevator, mindful of the fall of a dozen feet behind him. Whatever as wrong, they felt that a military unit of men was needed to contain him, should the worst happen. What the worst could be, he feared knowing as much as he desperately needed to know.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro: Savior of the Universe
> 
> Or
> 
> step one: diagnosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter. I don't have too much to say other than tease that next chapter will be very fun.  
> Anyway, thank you everyone who has stuck with this story- I'm so happy that you're still enjoying it. You guys have been leaving me such nice comments and notes, I love it! Many, many thanks!

The light shinning in his eyes was the last thread of consciousness that kept Keith tethered to the world. Ryvaina shined the slim light in first one eye, then the other, mumbling some comments which Knair recorded. His reactions were, as expected, sluggish but otherwise healthy. Their faces loomed before him, so close and yet he felt that if he reached out to touch, they would be miles away. As soon as the light vanished, his eyelids fell and he was being lulled into a deep, drug induced sleep.

"Thank you." he slurred, wrist limp in Ryvaina's hands. She would not forgive him, but he wanted to offer his thanks regardless. When he had fled for the ships, desperate to escape to his mate's side, she had not ordered him restrained, as she could have easily done. Instead, she had graciously, if not begrudgingly, accompanied him to fetch Shiro. He had imposed on her greatly. All of his grateful, humbled words jumbled together in his mind, becoming a muddled blob of letters that came out in a single phrase summation. "Thank you."

She carefully laid his hand on his chest, pulling the blanket to his shoulders. "You are welcome. And you may make it up to me with continued obedience during our work."

A soft grunt was all the response she received. He was lost to a black, dreamless sleep.

She checked several other vital statistics before rising from the bedside and beckoning Knair away. Her fellow Blade cast a curious glance at her as they left the room and made their way to the lower level, where the alpha was being sanitized. 

"You surprise me." Knair remarked casually when they were inside the private confines of the elevator, no hint of judgment in her tone.

Ryvaina hummed nonchalantly. "His behavior was entirely expected. He is young and he is mated. I was not surprised that he ran for his mate, merely irritated."

"And was our work all for naught?"

"No." she replied quickly. "He generally maintained a distance from the alpha and both appeared to be of an affectionate mindset towards the other. If nothing else, I was given a small glimpse into their interactions, with the alpha as ill as he is."

Knair hummed, stepping out as the elevator doors opened. "And what did this glimpse inform you?"

"Several things. That the alpha is strong of will, if he has kept the feral monster at bay so long. He is eager for reunion with his mate, but it is the three years of captivity that play into that desire, I believe. He appears to be aware of the threat the feral poses to both of them." She paused then added obviously, "They are both desperate for one another, but the feral beast has separated them."

Knair made no further comment; they would see soon enough how strong the alpha's will was. They walked to the farthest room on the floor, one of the few lab rooms with a containment chamber featuring a wide panel of glass for viewing. When they entered Shiro was still free, sitting in the lab portion of the room, circled by Kolivan and a unit of physicians. Lira glanced at them, beckoning Knair over.

They spoke in Galran, voices hushed, words sharp and harsh. It worried Shiro that he could not understand what they said. What were they saying that they did not want him to hear? What could they say that would upset him more than he was? Why continue with a charade when he now knew he was sick and in need of serious medical treatment? His eyes strayed to the door leading to the observation chamber. He would be locked in there soon, he knew. They would not have brought him to that room in particular if they were not planning on it.

The woman that had been taking his blood came over, pressing down on his vein as she plucked the needle free and quickly covered it with a bandage. 

"We will see what we can glean from this. You'll be given a meal tonight. Tomorrow, after the appropriate time has passed, we will perform another drawing of blood."

Shiro nodded, maintaining his mask of passiveness. They had already taken a sample of every fluid they could reasonably gather from him. What they could learn here at the Blade base that his prior physician had not discovered with the Castle of Lion's full medical wing, he did not know. Alas, they had the whip hand over him, as they actually knew what they were dealing with. He could make no protestation. 

"What is it?" he blurted. He had to know. He had to know what the voice inside of his head was, needed to know what monster was lurking within, threatening to steal everything from him.

Several eyes turned to Ryvaina, but she tilted her head away. She had performed her duty by accompanying the wayward paladin to fetch his mate. There were others present able to apprise the alpha of the circumstances.

With a soft growl, Kolivan stepped forward, demanding Shiro's attention. "Your mate suspects that you have been injected with a bioweapon that Prince Lotor commissioned for the war. It has the unfortunate side effect of rendering its host feral."

"Feral?" he echoed.

Lira stepped to his side. "Tell me if you've experienced any of these symptoms: increased aggression, unusually increased libido, black outs, fainting spells, hearing voices--"

The longer the list became, the more alarmed Shiro felt. Flashes of the past months danced behind his eyes; visions of forcing Keith against walls, threatening his teammates, lashing out physically and verbally. A yawning abyss of blackness came to mind, a blank space where he knew nothing, but everyone around him held dark memories of. The alpha had come out, but it was not him, not _his_ alpha. It was a monster, a feral monster. 

"All of that!" he cried, almost rising from his seat in his excitement. "It talks to me all the time; it can force me to do things without my even noticing. When it takes over completely, I can't remember, I just have blank spaces in my memory. It's--it makes me angry--I lash out and--what's happening to me? Am I turning feral? Am I going to lose my mind to that _thing_?"

He had known that something was horribly wrong with his alpha side, but he had never imagined it was something as diabolical as a bioweapon. The experiments they had performed on him in captivity had told him nothing of what the galra were after. He had been weak, despairing at the absence of his mate and pack, but it was not until his return to the Castle of Lions that the alpha rose up, shook off its daze, and grew aggressive. Once it had Keith's scent in its nostrils, everything had gone to hell. He felt his blood run cold, thinking how far he and his mate had been pushed and wondering if there was a way to come back from it.

"There is no cure," Knair interrupted his thoughts, fixing him with a hard look, "but there is hope yet. You will unfortunately have to bear the burden of a number of tests, as you are the first subject we have to test potential antidotes on."

Shiro's heart sank. Out of one testing facility and into another. "Is there really any hope?" he asked miserably, dropping his head into his hand. 

He was tired of holding onto fleeting hopes, tired of waiting for good things to come, only to find that no matter how patient he was, his mate would never return to him of his own free will. Keith _couldn't_ return to him--his own alpha id was threatening to rip his mind to shreds and turn that savagery upon his mate, taking what it felt was rightfully owed, until Keith too was insane. 

He shuddered at the idea of them, a pair of lunatics, drawn forever in a game of chase where neither of them could ever be happy.

"There is always hope, Shiro." Kolivan murmured. 

So they said. "How do you know? How do you know that it's this serum that I was infected with? How are you sure?"

"That was your mate's doing." Ryvaina spoke up, striding forward to stand before him. Shiro gazed up at her, wary of what she had to say. Surrounded as he was by the amazonian galra, he felt much like a child being schooled. "He came to the labs while we were examining the serum. For no discernible reason, he smelled it and was immediately struck with a fit. When he recovered, he was able to tell us that the serum has the same scent as Prince Lotor--and of you."

"Me?"

Ryvaina nodded. "He quickly deduced that you had likely been given a dose of the serum, which explains your uncharacteristic behavior and his own negative reactions towards you."

"I see." Shiro ran a hand over his mouth, pausing to rub at the short stubble of his trimmed beard. "Keith smelled it and--" he flinched suddenly. "You said---the serum smells like the prince?"

Again Ryvaina nodded, watching the expression on his face morph from exhausted shock to mounting terror. 

"And I smell like it?"

"Yes."

"So---when Keith smelled me--he was smelling Lotor." It was not a question. He was quickly putting together the mystery that had plagued him for months: why his mate could no longer stand the sight of him or stomach his presence. "When he was with me, Keith smelled _him_. And--" Dear god, Keith had been hallucinating when he left; he recalled that fact with a pang of anguish. "When Keith was with me, he smelled and saw his rapist."

The Blades stared at him, faces hard and cold. They said nothing, but their sudden silence spoke volumes. 

A choked sob escaped Shiro's throat before he could stop it. He dug his fingers into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, drawing blood. A cascade of curses fell from his mouth, damning the prince to a depth of hell not yet discovered, berating his own horrid alpha id, cursing the stars for always plotting him upon the course of greatest misery. He wept wildly for the time he lost with his mate, for the state of his alpha side, for the months of terror he had unintentionally forced upon Keith, he wept for everything they had lost and the maelstrom they had somehow survived to get to that point.

His hands were ripped away a moment later, Ryvaina's harsh glare nailing him to the spot. "Do not give up hope yet. If you surrender now, you will lose. The prince will have won. Your mate will perish alongside you." He stared at her in embarrassment, trying to pull himself together. "There is no cure--yet. You are here, in the most capable hands of the universe. If you cooperate, you can be saved."

_Get your shit together, Takashi._

He took a deep breath, clenching his fists and grounding himself. _That_ was the alpha voice he remembered, coarse but wise, steeling him through his difficult moments and steering him in the direction he needed to go. He needed to get better. If he would not do so for himself, then he had to do it for his mate, for his team, and for the universe. To give in then would be giving in to his own selfish weakness.

Taking another breath and releasing it through his mouth, he looked to Kolivan and his team. "Tell me what you need from me. I'll do anything."

\--------------------

Three vials of blood, seven cheek swabs, three tissue samples, and what he swore was a liter of urine later, and the doctors were beginning to piece together a full report of the state of his health. They worked in their labs day and night, toiling away in search of an antidote. For his part, Shiro was confined, caged within the 15 by 15 perimeters of his room. He had a bed and there was a wash closet with a toilet, but otherwise the room was empty. He dared not say it aloud, but the accommodations reminded him of a prison cell.

It was a torment in and of itself that he was confined with nothing to occupy his time. No books, screens, not even a deck of cards. Even the tablet that Pidge had fetched for him was confiscated. 

"We will return it when we are certain that the alpha is subdued enough that it will not try to have you use it in some attempt to gain freedom." His physician explained while showing him into the room. 

Shiro had fought against a grimace, dreading the tedium that would come. Their fears gave him far more credit than he thought he was due; how he could use the tablet as an escape device was beyond him, though he did whittle some time away turning over the challenge in his mind. Three days later, it was returned to him and the doctors gave him a concise, if not somewhat abridged, report.

"You have dangerously high levels of serum saturation within your blood." Lira explained, showing him a scan of his blood. "The results correlate with the number of injects you described to us."

Shiro frowned at the table, eyes ghosting over the numbers and notes. "Is it a dangerous level?"

"Extremely so."

He shuddered, forcing himself to ask, "Is there any hope?"

The set of Lira's face altered, her brows puckering, a vaguely pitying look in her eyes. "You and your mate--so pessimistic. There is always hope."

His attention piqued at the brief mention of his mate. "How is Keith? Is he better? Knair had said something about him being weak. He didn't look sick, but Kolivan said he wasn't supposed to leave the base and get me from the castle. Is he--"

The woman shook her head, sighing in agitation. The limits of her patience were being tested. Her skills were hardly ever practiced upon living specimens, certainly not on mated ones willing to throw caution to the wind just to get at one another. As of yet, neither of the two mates had been overly difficult, Keith's little foray to the castle aside. Not that there was too much the alpha could do while restrained in his cell, other than rage and make demands. 

"Your mate is fine. He is being obedient and maintaining his path to recovery."

That was good to hear. Still, he ached to see Keith again, to see with his own eyes that the man was in fact well and recovering. His desperation must have shown on his face. Lira reached onto her desk and handed him his tablet.

"You will see each other again shortly. First though, we must begin your treatment. When we have begun seeing results, we may then reintroduce you to one another. With luck, your bond will assist in both of your healing. That is the beauty of bonding, after all."

Shiro pressed the power button on the tablet, immediately opening up the files of letters. 

"Until such a time as you may be safely reintroduced to your mate," Lira continued, "you may write. He is awaiting word from you."

He was happy, he truly was, but for the moment, Shiro put his own needs first. "You said that I would need to begin treatment. What type of treatment is there? You've said multiple times that there's no cure, so I have to take that to mean that there's nothing to give me, but some sort of pill that's only going to buy me time."

If it was all they had, he would take it. If his time was limited, he would do all he could to stretch it, to steal every minute he could, covet every second so that he could be with Keith until he lost to the alpha and it took over. 

"Pessimists." Lira murmured. "There is no cure, you are correct, but do not take that as a death sentence. The alpha has not taken over yet. We do not yet know how you will react to the antidote we are preparing. Of great importance is the fact that we do not yet know why you haven't turned. You have maintained your sanity for years while others have lost theirs in days. There are still many tests to perform. You must be patient."

_Patience yields focus._

"I can be patient."

"You will meet with all of your mate's physicians. Together, we will compile a full analysis of your condition and your reaction to the antidote. You may be a great boon to this movement, paladin. You have survived this far, against all odds. You may hold the key to a cure."

That was a truly uplifting thing to hear. There was hope after all, as Lira had said. He held in his hands a doorway to his mate. He was alive and mostly in control of his faculties, while hundreds of others before him had fallen and lost themselves irrevocably. There was hope for him, for Keith, and for the universe. He hadn't been beaten yet. He could still save himself. He could cure them all. 

A shy grin lifted his lips. _No pressure, Takashi._


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's never enough time, but for now this will do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to hear you scream

"Are you listening?"

Shiro jumped to attention, sitting up straight, locking his eyes on the doctor as the man shook his head in exasperation. It was the second time he was caught zoning out in the past five minutes.

"I'm sorry." he murmured, not feeling sorry at all. "I'm just nervous. And excited."

"As expected," the doctor said, coming over and removing the drip from his arm. 

His arm stung as the needle was pulled free, the flesh around the injection site tender from similar pricks made each day for the past three weeks. It was alpha chemo, Shiro had thought when they first brought in the green glowing bag, hanging from a slim crane. This was only the first round of antidote, Lira had explained as she found a vein in the crook of his elbow and sank the needle in. The formula would be altered regularly, based on his reactions. It would be an ongoing battle, they told him grimly, but he had to forge his way through it.

Fortunately, the side effects of his treatment were, thus far, no worse than occasional vomiting and severe exhaustion. Occasionally there was a flare of anger from the alpha, but exhaustion prevented him from exerting much strength. In so far as he could tell, his alpha was responding well to the antidote. 

"How will I know that it's working?" he had asked when the first bag of antidote had been hooked into him.

Lira regarded him stoically. "You will know."

Shiro had not understood then what her cryptic response meant. It was hardly an answer that he could work with. He puzzled over her words, pondering their great meaning. He assumed that the Blades would know when he reacted to the antidote. Or he hoped they did, otherwise they were all just stabbing fruitlessly in the dark, praying that they hit a mark. It was difficult to judge anything from their faces; they could be as clueless as he and he would never know. Were that the case, Shiro wished he had their level of bullshitting skills. 

Happily, after a week of treatment, he understood Lira's words. He knew that he was responding to the antidote. Rather than waking to the subtle throb of a coming headache, as was typical when his alpha id was active, he woke to--nothing. All that morning he had felt off, so at peace that he worried he was too at ease. 

"Only you would worry when you're not stressed." Keith had written to him, clearly amused. 

"That's not true." he had written back, though he knew it was. He ignored his mate's comment and continued to write about his recovery while happily perusing the details of Keith's own recuperation. 

He wondered, as he sometimes had in the past, whether their alternative sides interacted without them knowing. While his alpha side was growing quiet and settling in, Keith described his omega side virtually awakening from hibernation. His body was miserable and jubilant all at once, his mate wrote. The medication Keith was on caused him severe stomach pains and there wasn't a day that passed when he wasn't ill in some shape or form, he claimed. Shiro felt a tad guilty; he was on daily serum drips and he usually slept the worst of it off. 

"I wish I could be there to help hold your hair back for you." he lamented. It would have been the perfect excuse to finally get his fingers in the long tail of hair that hung down Keith's back. 

Shiro paused, considering that odd desire and wondering if it were his own or the alpha's. 

When he wasn't busy vomiting his guts out, Keith's letter continued, he was hyper. Apparently, his mate had a resurgence of energy, which relieved Shiro greatly. How many times had he wandered into a common room to find Keith hunched over his arms or leaning against a wall, eyes falling shut as he drifted to sleep? How often had he watched as the man shuffled at a snail's pace while walking or training? It had been painful to bear witness to Keith's downfall. Now the man was bouncing off the walls--literally. 

Keith was well enough that Rakael, the physical therapist, was allowing him to train once more. Training, apparently, was not simply exercising his muscles back into shape or properly stretching weakened limbs. Oh no, Keith explained; he was back with a sword in hand and doing back flips off walls. That caused Shiro some alarm, but when he shared his concerns with his doctor the man simply shrugged him off. 

"Galra..." 

He tried not to pay too much attention to the subtler messages in Keith's letters, hinting at his omega side growing eager for reunion. If he dwelled too long on the implications, Shiro knew he would be stuck in the embarrassing situation of having a raging hard-on and no way to satisfy it. Even when there was no doctor in the lab, studying him through the panel of glass, there were cameras watching his every move. He was never alone.

That news had come a week or so ago. After a near month of treatment, the doctors were confident enough in his recovery to see fit to reunite him and Keith.

Shiro had zoned out yet again while the doctor spoke, setting ground rules for how these visits were to be handled. He forced himself to listen. Alas, he was not yet well enough to be in the same room as Keith and so they would be meeting through the security of the glass. They would be supervised at every second and, should one of them begin reacting negatively to the other, the meeting would be cut short. 

It was not enough, but Shiro would take it. If he was able to see Keith, to hear the man's voice and spend time with him, he did not care what the circumstances were. If he was still dangerous to his mate, he would adhere to whatever rules they laid before him. 

Before his doctor left the lab, Shiro knocked on the glass sharply, asking for what felt like the hundredth time if it truly was wise for them to bring Keith down to see him.

The doctor stared back calmly. "Of course. We would not risk his health, were we not confident that you were both well enough to survive such an encounter."

"But his health _is_ good, right? How is his recovery?"

"He can apprise you of his health himself when you see him."

Shiro growled low in his throat, turning away from the glass panel. He trusted that Keith would not lie to him about the state of his recovery, but he knew that his mate tended to omit unpleasant facts when he saw the need. It was a flaw he was similarly guilty of. Right then, in those dire circumstances, he could not take the risk that Keith was hiding something from him. The doctors, he trusted, would tell him the entire truth, no matter how dismal it was. 

When Ryvaina entered, performing a final session to ensure that he was indeed ready to be reintroduced to his mate, Shiro leaped to the glass and demanded answers.

"If he _is_ still ill, you have to keep him away." he said sternly, eyes narrow. "He can't push himself right now. He pushed himself too much before. If he does it again, he may break and I can't--I can't lose him. Not now. Not when there's still a chance that we can be together."

Ryvaina stared, ever a mask of indifference. He hated how difficult it was to read the Blades' expressions. Deciphering their thoughts was impossible unless they allowed him to know. 

"I am confident," she said at last, "that he is well enough to see you. You may not touch, as your physician has likely told you already. You must remain in your cell for now; the glass will keep your smell contained. That will prevent lingering scents from effecting your mate."

Shiro felt his anger stall. He had not considered his smell being a hindrance. When his doctor had announced the visits were to be between glass, he had seethed quietly, assuming that the separation was from some lingering distrust of his alpha side. It was a valid fear, but he had been a calm, cooperative patient for weeks. A few minutes face to face, hand to hand with his mate hadn't seemed like too much to ask. Clearly it was.

He sat on his bed with a heavy thump, all his prior anger and indignities fleeing with a sharp exhale of breath. 

"May I begin now?" the woman asked.

"Yes. I'm ready."

As per their usual sessions, they began slow, reviewing his sleeping and eating habits. He slept abundantly and ate just as well. If Shiro wasn't mistaken, he had gained a few pounds. It was a good thing, given how gaunt he had become wile imprisoned. She inquired after any aggression he felt and he answered honestly. Aside from annoyance at being physically kept from his mate and some lingering unhappiness at being caged, he was wholly content. 

"Do you still hear the voice of the alpha inside of your head?"

Shiro paused, actually having to take time to recall. It had been so long since he was consciously aware of the alpha inside of his head. "I--I can't remember. I haven't heard it lately."

"Have you noticed it still manipulating you?"

Again he had to consider. There was little reason or opportunity for the alpha to take over. There was a chance that it could have slipped a few choice words into the letters he sent to his mate, but he was always careful to proof each one he sent after the first time he discovered the alpha writing without his permission. Nothing of note had ever caught his attention and Keith had never pointed anything out. 

"I don't think it has."

Ryvaina took a moment to record some notes before fixing him with a sharp stare. "Tell me about your thoughts towards your mate."

"My thoughts?"

"How do you feel towards him? What emotions do you feel when you think of him? What types of things do you think of when he is on your mind?"

This was a heavier session than Shiro was used to. He did not often meet with Ryvaina, as they were still mainly concerned with creating an antidote for his condition, not mending his mind through therapy; when they did meet, their session were brief and felt more like mental check-ups. How did he feel? How did he sleep? How did he eat? If Keith was mentioned, it was by him, asking after the man's welfare. 

He sighed, taking a moment to review his thoughts and answer honestly. "My thoughts towards my mate are that I love him. When I think of him, I feel frightened and angry."

"Explain."

"I worry that he won't recover, or at least that he won't be able to recover with me near him. I'm afraid he will push himself too hard and break permanently."

"And your anger? Are you angry at him?"

"No!" Shiro barked, face twisted in insult. "After all of this? I could never be angry at him. I'm angry at what Lotor did. I'm angry that I wasn't there to protect him."

The woman paused, setting her tablet aside. "You cannot blame yourself for that."

"I know, but--"

"You and your mate both suffer from the same tendency of placing blame where it does not belong."

Shiro's gut clenched, his heart stuttering to a standstill. "He blames me too."

"No, he blames himself for being weak. You both have the dangerous ability to alter reality to fit within a strange narrative where all problems stem from your own actions."

That was worse, in Shiro's eyes. He would have been able to stand Keith blaming him for his failings as a mate. He could not stomach the idea that the man blamed himself for all that had happened. 

"You realize that the both of you are pawns to Prince Lotor, yes? Your captivity and torture were directly at his hands, as was your mate's assault. All that followed because of those events lays at the prince's feet. Not yours. Not your mate's. The two of you are wholly without blame."

Of course she was right. Shiro knew that she spoke true wisdom. Logically, if he followed the trail of events, it could all be traced back to Lotor. Keith pushed him away. Why? Because he smelled like the prince. So? So, Lotor attacked the man in the most heinous way possible, leveling a once proud warrior and leaving him shaking, literally seeing enemies in the faces of those who loved him most. 

Shiro attacked his teammates and terrorized his mate. Why? Because there was a feral monster rampaging in his head, compelling him to act on base instinct. How? Because Lotor used him as a guinea pig for a viral weapon the likes of which they had never seen before. Every path led back to the prince.

Shiro's lips curled into a snarl. "I will kill him when I get my hands on him."

Ryvaina made no comment. 

She gave him a moment to compose himself before finishing the session with a few simpler follow-up questions. They did not speak again of the prince. 

As she made to leave, he pressed against the glass, calling out. "When will I see Keith? Are you still bringing him today?"

"I thought you were the one with the motto about patience?"

Upon later contemplation, Shiro was stunned to realize that she had cracked a joke, but at the moment he was too wound up. His mind was elsewhere. He wanted to see Keith. "When it comes to Keith, I don't have much patience left. You've been teasing me with this visit for days."

She scoffed. "I will bring him once he has eaten his breakfast. He needs to maintain his eating schedule."

"So, when? An hour? Two?"

"When he's done."

The door opened and closed after her. He was stuck waiting with no assuring word to help him focus his patience. There was also no clock present in his cell, so, even had she given him an estimation, he would not have been able to track the passage of time. With a frustrated sigh, he sat back on the edge of his bed, staring impatiently at the door, waiting for it to open once more.

\----------

Breakfast was not sitting well in Keith's stomach, but he had to eat. If he did not fulfill his quota of food intake, his guardians would take note and punishment could range from a simple scolding to force feeding. That day, there was even more at stake than his self-worth and pride, more than he was unwilling to lose. If stuffing himself full would allow him to see Shiro, he would bend to their will. The last spoonful of gruel went down hard, attempting to crawl its way back up his esophagus a moment later, but he bit it back. A swallow of water later and he was ready to leave.

"Did you take your pills?" Knair asked, voice firm.

He was fairly certain he had taken them in front of her, but he could have mistaken her for her twin, Knoor. "I did. They still make me queasy."

"It will pass with time."

"You said that two months ago and I still get sick."

"I did not say how long it would take for it to pass."

He was unsure if that was a joke, but he did not care. Already his stomach was roiling unhappily, threatening to spill its contents. Just his luck, Keith thought anxiously; finally reunited with his mate and he would spoil the moment by vomiting all over himself. It would be the perfect reminder for Shiro as to why he was so in love. 

A hard clench of his gut made him grimace. "Maybe I'll lay down before we go see him."

It proved to be a wise idea. Some fifteen minutes later, Keith leaned over the side of his bed and heaved onto the floor, a garish yellow mass that looked suspiciously of the cheese-like, pancake-esq meal he had been forced to eat. Worse, it stank, and when he bent to clean it up, the smell made him heave again. 

"Eggs don't agree with me." he murmured miserably when Ryvaina came over to assist in the clean up.

"Perhaps you should speak up before you eat the entirety of your meal then."

He scoffed, dumping a handful of soiled towels into the laundry chute. "You punish me when I refuse to eat."

"Refusing to eat for no reason but pride and providing sound reasons for your inability to eat are two different situations. It is up to you to make your life easier; do not expect us to read your mind or intentions."

_Fair enough._

"Let my stomach settle for a bit and then I can go." He wanted to be in peak condition when he saw Shiro, not a drooling, rank mess. 

The two Blades, surprisingly, stayed by his side while he curled beneath his blanket, feebly attempting not to think of how ill he felt. It was nerves upsetting him so, he suspected. Each day there was a fifty/fifty chance that the medication combined with breakfast would make him ill, but he had been having a good week up until that morning. 

Sighing, Keith burrowed into his pillow and wondered how this fated meeting would play out. All the previous night he had carefully considered what he had to say, planning and practicing each apology. If words failed him, as they so often did, he was prepared to lay down on the ground and grovel. Even if Shiro was not there, he was confident that the alpha would be pleased with the display of submission. 

Would he even get a chance to speak? Keith feared the worst. He had tried not to allow his hopes to soar, tried not to dwell on all the joyous ends this longed for meeting could have. Instead, he thought of the worst that could happen. Shiro could reject him, now that his alpha was in check and he was rational. Shiro could berate him for his intolerable treatment and break their bond. At least it would be Shiro and not a shell of the man, puppeted by a monster. If such an end came to pass, he could exist quietly and alone, knowing that the man he loved was wholly himself. But if the worst came to pass, if when he entered he was greeted not by his mate but by a snarling feral alpha, he would never forgive himself. 

Keith shuddered, drawing the blanket closer, screwing his eyes shut and praying to any deity listening that he could be returned to his mate, that Shiro could be returned to him.

\--------------------

The frigid air pumped from the ventilation system did nothing to cool the heat pooling in Keith's cheeks. His face was a perpetually burning fire. What he was so embarrassed about, he was uncertain. Neither Ryvaina or Knair made comment of his odd coloring; they were busy describing how the meeting was to progress.

"Once we have brought you in, you will be given ten minutes together." Knair said.

"Ten minutes?" he echoed. "Why so short?" He had been waiting to see his mate for weeks. A mere handful of minutes would not satisfy either of them.

"We must first see how you respond to one another." Ryvaina explained, her voice considerably softer than her comrade's. "We will reintroduce you to one another mindfully; each day we will lengthen the time of your visit. If all goes well, that is."

It made sense, he knew, but he still hated it. They had to be careful. Keith sighed, knowing that he was the catalyst for the alpha's destructive behavior. Shiro had been fine, he had since learned, before returning to the castle and reuniting. As he recalled, the first week or so that Shiro had been aboard the ship was tolerable. There were a few quirks that the man had developed which he now recognized as the alpha's angry ticks, but nothing of note happened until the first time he spurned Shiro's sexual advances. He grimaced at the memory of the storm that followed his refusal.

"I understand." Keith said, glancing to Ryvaina. He chewed on the inside of his cheek a moment, considering how to phrase his request. If anyone would feel a pang of sympathy for him, it would be Ryvaina. Knair was as cold as a freezer. "Can I--can you allow Shiro and I a few minutes alone?"

"Absolutely not." Knair answered immediately.

Ryvaina hummed, eyes crinkling. "What do you need time alone for?"

The look she gave him reminded him a bit of the suggestive faces Lance would shoot him whenever he and Shiro wandered off together, assuming the worst of what they were about. Keith groaned. "I'm not stupid; I know there are probably a dozen cameras in there. I don't expect to be fully alone with him. I just--it would be easier for us to talk if we didn't have such an obvious audience."

Again Knair refused, but Ryvaina hummed once more, considering. 

"I have no intention of rubbing my leaking ass against the glass, if you're concerned about _that_." he said sourly.

"Naturally," Ryvaina said without a hint of irony, "you have not yet gone into heat. Do you truly feel that this solitude will allow you to speak more openly with your alpha?"

"Shiro and I are very private people...I think it would be best for us. Even if it's only two minutes. I'll be sure to speak my mind quickly."

They moved on in silence, passing lab after lab until they paused before the containment chamber where Shiro was housed. Keith sighed, hating that his mate was caged because of him, hating how nervous he felt, hating his deteriorated memory which was failing at conjuring the words he had practiced for days. If he had nothing else saved in his brain, he reminded himself to be sincere. Words were an art form he had never truly conquered, but his love was as pure a thing as could be found in the universe. When he could not speak, his love could speak for him.

Ryvaina placed her hand upon the doorlock. The sound of several high level security locks clicking shuddered in the hallway. 

"I will comply with your request." Ryvaina said, pulling her hand away as the door slid open. "You will have three minutes to yourself. The remaining time will be under our supervision."

Keith's eyes widened. When he had made his request he had not actually believed that it would be granted. He had hoped, but--it did not matter. When their visit was over he would thank Ryvaina properly. At the moment, his heart soared, too full with thoughts of his mate to spare her more than a fleeting thought. Before the door had fully opened, he was running inside, to the glass Shiro stood behind, waiting for him.

\--------------

When the crack appeared in the opening door he was on his feet and pressed to the glass in a second. The door was not even fully open when Keith slipped inside, rushing towards him. A high pitched keen escaped Shiro's throat when he saw his mate. He was always biased in his regard for Keith, but he could not withstand the helpless flutter of his heart as he took in the man's bright violet eyes, gleaming raven hair, and fit body. _He's beautiful_ , Shiro thought, _and he looks well. Thank god._ A smile touched the corners of his mouth, noting that his mate was still wearing his clothes; the collar and sleeves hung comedically low on Keith's frame, but Shiro felt a rumble of satisfaction low in his belly at the sight.

Keith skidded to a halt before the glass, fixing wide, worried eyes on him. Shiro smiled back reassuringly. He had longed to see such care in his mate's eyes for ages. Finally, he could see the love there once more. Keith's eyes were bright and clear, as they had not been in months, emotion sitting there, stark as day. And those eyes were focused solely on him.

"I'm fine, baby." he cooed. 

A furrow came to the man's brow. Keith's lips moved, but he could not hear what his mate said. If his lip reading skills were up to snuff, Shiro thought he had asked a question. Possibly 'what did you say'. 

"Baby, I can't hear you."

Panic came briefly to Keith's eyes and he began searching frantically on the control panel by the wall. Shiro glanced up to the speak above his head as it clicked and squeaked and then his mate's voice boomed,

"Shiro!"

They both flinched at the volume and Keith took a tentative step away from the intercom. Shiro laughed softly, catching the man's eyes. 

"I'm here, baby."

What a reaction that simple phrase garnered! Water sprang to Keith's eyes; he didn't even know what he was crying for. For himself? For Shiro, locked away in a cage? For the both of them? Was it joy? Was he sad? He did not know or care. His chest heaved as hiccuping little sobs tore from his throat. 

How did they get there, Keith lamented to himself. He held so much love for his mate, but they could only be together now through the safety net of a divider, a glass wall keeping them from reaching out and comforting one another as they needed. More than anything he wanted to run his fingers through Shiro's hair, to pull him close and bury himself in the man's chest. He wanted to comfort and be comforted. 

Keith sucked in a shuddering breath, leaning his forehead against the pane of glass. They were so close and still so far. 

A heavy thunk drew his attention and he blinked his tears away, glancing up to find Shiro leaning his head against the glass, mirroring him. The man's gray eyes stared at him softly, a thousand promises and declarations of love within their depths. They shared a gentle smile. 

"I love you." Shiro whispered, his voice coming out as a soft hiss over the speaker. 

Shiro pawed desperately at the glass, as if he might somehow break through it and pull his mate to him. _Calm_ , Shiro reminded himself. If he did not control himself, the doctors might think him too unstable to see Keith again. Taking a deep breath, he laid his palm to the glass, finding contentment with his mate's mere presence. It was enough for the time being.

His skin prickled as a soft keen rumbled through the speaker. He had not heard such a sound in--years. Memories of long nights spent moaning and keening at one another filled his head briefly and he felt his chest tighten. Keith was happy. Shiro did not know if he could handle such bliss after years of misery. His heart was near bursting. When Keith lifted his hand to the glass, molding it against his own fanned fingers so that they were palm to palm, he choked. 

"Keith..."

His mate nuzzled the glass, as though they were touching foreheads, smiling through his tears. "I love you, Takashi."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery was always a lengthy process, but Shiro was content, having his mate by his side. For Keith, recovery was a slower process, but he was ready for good news, even if it was frightening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, guess who went out and had a social life for once? Drunk at the zoo, yeah (it's called zoo brew). So, sorry for the lateness. 
> 
> This chapter brought to you by Pink's 'Who knew'
> 
> I hope last chapter was a big pay off for everyone! The sheith is starting! Get the popcorn! Honestly, I think I'm as relieved as you. Sweet, sweet Sheith...

Red's jaw was locked, the hinge blasted apart, leaving her gears exposed. The only way out was to crawl through the split between her jowls, carefully avoiding the jabbed edges of warped metal. Climbing free, Keith hit the ground with a grunt. A sharp sting in his arm told him that he had not been careful enough and had nicked himself on a piece of shrapnel. It was inconsequential. The chatter in his helmet told him that the rest of the paladins were in a state of similar disarray, their lions limping back to the castle, bruised and beaten. Defeated. They had been bested.

"Time to get out of here." he breathed into the communication line, pressing a hand to a spot of growing concern on his side. He had taken more than a few knocks in the battle and Red was not the only one complaining.

Allura's voice crackled over the line, affirming his call for retreat and commanding them all back to the castle. Retreating was not their style, but they had played a losing hand. What they had assumed would be a simple search and rescue mission had been nothing more than a grand trap. While they flew in, blindly trusting the information their sources had provided, the enemy lay in wait. What a grand coup it had been. The enemy had been so great in number, they could not see beyond the horizon. Wave after wave descended upon them, the stars around them drown out by unending canon blasts, blinding them. 

He left the hangar, patting Red's jaw once, intent on getting to the bridge and taking up defense position while the rest of the paladins flew in. It was a near impossible task, keeping the enemy off of their literal tails, even with Allura and Coran manning additional guns. When Lance appeared and slammed himself into his seat, taking up arms, they still failed to make a dent.

"There's too many of them." Allura declared, eyes blazing.

"No kidding!" Lance screeched, slamming his fist against the console as one of his drones was shot down. "Hunk, Shiro! Get in here! We have to make a wormhole jump!"

As if to punctuate his statement, a blast struck the side of the ship, rattling them violently. They groaned collectively, shaking off their daze and returning to the firefight. Each minute that passed they lost more and more drones. Their defenses were growing alarmingly scarce. 

"Move!" Allura shouted as the last of the lions made ready to dock. "We have to leave _now_!"

"No! Not yet!"

They all paused, looking between one another.

"Shiro?" Allura called.

"If I can get to the heart of the mass--"

"Shiro, no!"

"I can take one of the smaller ships and slip past them. It will be easy, so long as you cover me. I can find--"

Keith listened numbly, body growing cold and slack as his mate described what was clearly a suicide mission. There was sound logic in what the man spoke of, but it was not a practical mission. Getting to the heart of of the enemy fleet would require far more firepower than they possessed. Even had they formed Voltron, they would be in over their heads.

"Shiro!" he barked, "Stop talking and get up here! We have lost! It is time to leave before we are all killed!"

There was a lengthy pause over the communication line.

"I'm going."

"Shiro!"

The line went dead. 

Without thinking, Keith began running for the hangar. At his back, Lance screamed his name, demanding he take up his post once more. _No time_ , a voice bellowed inside his head. Something was wrong. His mate was about to do something beyond reckless. 

He ran into the hangar as Shiro forced open the cockpit to one of the fighter pods and made to slide in.

"Shiro!"

The man jerked in surprise, turning wide eyes to him. "Keith? What are you doing here? Get back to the bridge and take up defense position!"

He ran over, circling the ship so he could grab Shiro by the arm. "We have to go! Shiro, we have lost! Whatever you're thinking, stop!"

"I'm doing this Keith."

"Are you insane? That would be suicide!"

A flinch traveled across Shiro's face, eyes growing distant. Taking a deep breath, he dropped back to the ground and pulled Keith to him, nuzzling into his neck gently. He could smell the pungent, acrid scent of fear and he squeezed the man tighter.

"I have to do this." he whispered.

Keith forced himself away with a powerful shove of palms to the man's chest. He glowered dangerously. "Then I'm coming with you!"

"Keith, no."

"I'm coming with you!"

"Keith, it's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous--do you hear yourself, Shiro? If it's too dangerous for me then it's too dangerous for you!" He grabbed Shiro by the arms and shook with all his strength. Tapped as he was from the battle, his shaking garnered little more than a sway in his mate's body. 

Shiro eyed him sympathetically. "Go back to the bridge, Keith. Let me handle this."

"Shiro, I'm not letting you--"

The words were stolen from his mouth as Shiro pulled him forward by a rough grip on his waist, smashing their lips together in a brutally passionate kiss. The man's bionic hand cradled the back of his head firmly, fingers tangling in his sweat damped hair, anchoring him in place as Shiro burned the taste of his lover in his memory. There was something desperate and final in the way the man held him; it sat unwell in Keith's stomach. When his mate pulled away, Keith stood stunned for a moment, unable to do more than stare as Shiro stepped away and climbed into the ship.

"Wh--wait--"

The ship engines were whirring to life. 

"Go back, baby. Give me cover."

"Shiro!" he ran for the wing of the craft, scrambling to climb on.

"Keith. _Go back to the bridge_."

His body locked, hands loosening of their own accord as he sank back from the ship and backed slowly to the door. He could not fight; every cell in his body bent to obey his alpha's command, even as his mind screamed opposition. His feet would not listen to him. He was being carried away from his mate against his own wishes.

"Shiro! You bastard!"

He gripped the door of the hangar like a vice, struggling to remain in control. He had lost command of himself, but there were others in power capable of preventing Shiro from following through on his suicide mission. 

"Allura! Lock the docks! Now! Open the wormhole!"

Too late. He had been too late. Before the dock doors could close the ship was gone. He lost sight of Shiro in seconds. He was left clinging to the wall, screaming into the void of space, begging the abyss to return his mate. He ran to the bridge, praying to catch some glimpse of the man in the fray, but there was nothing left to witness. Any sign of his mate had been swallowed by the horde of enemy ships. 

Status reports were demanded. No signature was detected. Shiro was gone.

\-----------------

"Keith? Are you still with me?"

Keith blinked back to awareness, lifting a hand to rub away the stray tear that had rolled down his cheek. "I'm here." he murmured, chasing away the dark memories with a firm nod.

Through the glass, Shiro attempted a weak smile. "I thought I lost you there for a second."

"For a second, you did."

Keith hung his head, eyes downcast, hiding his thoughts. It was a familiar gesture and one Shiro immediately recognized. He frowned at his mate, taking in the man's slouched form. The lab technicians were not too fond of Keith's habit of shoving their tools aside to sit comfortably with his back to the corner of the wall and the glass partition, but they had made no complaint after the first three times. Likely they realized that, as he was not disturbing any of the equipment or medical supplies, Keith was not going to stop taking up what he had deemed his spot. It was a matter of comfort. No amount of coaxing or scolding would move him. It was an omega thing, Shiro suspected; comfort was important to them.

He had to sit at an angle to properly see his mate, but the doctors had graciously given him a chair for his little pen. Apparently the alpha was behaving well enough that they felt comfortable rewarding him with some luxuries. 

"Baby?" He rapped his knuckles against the glass. Keith looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. I'm fine."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying. Nothing is wrong."

Shiro frowned, stung that his mate did not feel confident being honest with him. "I can tell that something is bothering you."

"That doesn't mean something is wrong." Keith retorted.

"Let's not argue semantics, dear."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Yes, darling."

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"Shiro, just let it go."

It was like arguing with a brick wall, Shiro thought. When Keith put his will into something, he was immovable as a mountain. 

"Keith, something is clearly bothering you. I want to know what it is. Maybe I can--"

"You can't help. It's in the past. There is literally nothing either of us can do about it so it's better if we just let it be."

_Ah_. An anxious quiver twisted in Shiro's gut. "We have a lot to talk about concerning our past."

"Agreed." Keith sighed. "But now isn't the time. We only just got permission to be in each other's presence. Stressing each other out with _that_ is not a wise idea. They won't hesitate to separate us again."

That was not a risk Shiro was willing to take. They had fought too hard and too long to get to where they currently were. "Can I at least ask which 'that' you're referring to? We have three and a half years to go through and there are more than a few poignant moments that I'm sure stand out in both of our memories."

Did it really matter, Keith wondered. One bad memory was as bad as the next. 

"Is it Lot--"

"No." he snapped, glowering at his mate. Shiro gazed at him sympathetically. His expression softened, a pang of guilt striking his heart. "Sorry...no, it's not _him_ and--I will tell you about that. Soon. But right now I just...I don't have the energy for any of it. I want to forget it and I want us to move on."

Shiro sympathized; he wanted nothing more than for them to come back together and leave all of this behind them. They were getting there, happily, but they needed to confront the past. Burying it, pretending none of it had happened, would only hurt them. They needed to confront their demons. As long as they were together, they could manage the trial. There were things he longed to confide in his mate, secrets of his captivity that burned on his tongue, desperate to be spoken. He could only imagine how Keith felt. He had seen the earnest need in his mate's eyes, dying to speak, but knowing it to be too early. They needed to reaffirm their love to one another before crushing each other with the secrets of what had transpired in their time apart. 

"We'll talk about it later then." he said gently. "I just want you to be happy."

Keith whimpered. "I feel the same way." His eyes darted around the lab, landing warily on each piece of equipment. "They haven't told me how you're doing. If they're letting us stay together for an hour at a time, I have to assume you're getting better, but--how do you feel?"

Shiro followed the trail of his gaze, dancing over the scanning devices, the cranes, the assortment of tools he had become intimately familiar with. He found, oddly, that he did not hold the same disdain for them as he once had. They were tools of torture in some hands, but in these hands, the strangely caring hands of the Blade of Marmora, they were tools of healing. He no longer feared them.

"Well," he glanced to the portion of the desk that Keith was not sitting on, eyeing a tray of thin syringes, "I do feel much better. I haven't felt the alpha rear up in a long time."

Keith smiled weakly. "Poor thing is probably exhausted."

_He still loves the alpha, after all of that._

"He is. I am." Shiro keened gently, heart thumping as the call was returned. "So far as the work on an antidote goes--"

"I'm not concerned about the antidote, " Keith cut in, "I'm concerned about you."

He paused momentarily before smiling. "Whatever serum they're giving me, it's doing its job. They've altered the dosage a number of times. They just decreased the amount and I'm down to taking it every three days instead of daily."

"That's good." Keith murmured. Or, he thought it was good. 

No one had truly explained what was going on in the lab. He had the barest hints of comprehension as to what their tests were aiming to accomplish, but a cure was supposed to be secondary to Shiro's recovery. He was the head of Voltron after all and the face of the rebellion. Without Shiro, there was no resistance. 

Kolivan had reassured him that his mate's health was top priority. Progress would be slow, but within the first week they had surprising success with neutralizing the effects of Lotor's drug. That was as much news as the Blade operatives were willing to share. He had hoped that Shiro would be able to elaborate more, but he did not want to prod too deeply. It had to be uncomfortable in that cage.

"Do you feel...fine?" he asked again, just to be certain.

Shiro stared at him a moment, wondering if there was hidden meaning in the question. "I'm fine, baby. I don't get sick that often. Not nearly as much as you at any rate. How are _you_ doing?"

"Ugh." The question brought to the surface too many memories of miserable mornings hunched over the toilet. "Every morning is a struggle."

"I'm sorry."

"They keep messing with the dosage; my system isn't acclimated to the new pills yet." 

He opened his mouth, considering something a moment, then snapped his jaw shut. He did not need to worry Shiro with talk of his failing memory. That could be discussed at a later date, when they considered what to do about Voltron. He suspected his news would make the conversation a good deal more difficult for the paladins to stomach. One hurdle at a time, he decided. What could not be helped right then did not need to be brought up. 

"I'm sick of getting sick." he blurted to fill the silence. 

Shiro knew that agony, though he had been fortunate not to be as ill as his mate. Which seemed odd to him, given the toxicity of the drug in his system. He did not know if he should be alarmed by that fact or not. Either he had a strong set of organs or the poison had set in and not even the strongest of antidotes would touch it. He decided not to dwell on that notion too long, lest he start to panic. 

Conversation tapered off for a time and they sat in easy, companionable silence, staring at one another lovingly. Keith looked tired, Shiro noted with some concern. That wasn't too unusual, he supposed, especially if his mate was still getting sick off of his medication. Being ill was surprisingly tedious. 

Eventually Keith's eyes drifted shut, his body leaning heavily against the glass partition. It was not the place to rest and he ought to be savoring every second he had with Shiro, but he was too weak. An apology bubbled in his throat, but he did not know if he managed to speak. Somewhere through the descending blackness he heard the gentle rumble of Shiro's hum, lulling him to sleep. 

\---------------

The touch of a heavy hand on his shoulder jolted Keith into consciousness, but his brain was sluggish and slow to respond. He floundered, confused, and upon seeing Shiro jerked towards the man, only to come up short against the pane of glass separating them. The heavy thunk of his head colliding with the glass registered a split second before the pain did. A deep breath and moment of stillness allowed his hazy thoughts to catch up with him and he recalled that he was in the lab; he had fallen asleep after some discussion with Shiro. Keith groaned softly, pressing a hand to the lump forming on his forehead; he had known it was bad idea to rest there.

"Calm yourself, please." Ryvaina said, having noted his reaction with some displeasure. 

When he looked up, Shiro had moved, leaning heavily against the glass before him and gazing at him worriedly. Keith did not bother to offer some flippant comment about his welfare or how stupid his reaction had been. They all knew his panicked flailing was a sign of lingering distress. Hitherto, he had been a bit of a stoic, like his fellow Blades. Very little had moved him to reaction. Hunk and Lance jumping out at him from behind walls? He had barely batted an eye. Ironically, that had been the first rumor of his not being human. He wondered if the others thought about those antics from all those years ago and reflected on how accurate they had been in their diagnosis of him. 

Fear had been something of a mystery to Keith. He understood emotional fear quite well; he had grown up fearing abandonment and later separation from his mate. Fear of the world around him was a far more difficult concept to grasp. Wild animals, murderers, freak accidents--he could not comprehend why those things frightened people. He had faced down a number of fierce animals in his day and hardly batted an eye. The worst that could happen was that he would get injured, possibly killed. That, he realized, was what people feared. To them, there was nothing worse than death. Death had never meant much to Keith either, but after his dealings with Lotor he had come to realize there _were_ things worse than death. 

"Come with me," Ryvaina beckoned, keeping her hands to herself as she urged him up, "Lira wishes to examine you." 

"Wait." Shiro protested. "Why does he need to be examined?" He looked at Keith, brows drawn in concern. "Are you alright, Keith?"

The man offered a weak smile, pressing his palm to the glass. "I'm fine. They just need to make sure that the medications aren't messing with me. Same as with you."

Shiro continued to stare at him.

"Worry about yourself, Shiro. They told me that once you're better they'll allow you out of that cell." His voice dipped to a low purr. "We can be together again."

A deep flush settled on Shiro's cheeks, hearing the suggestive hum in his mate's voice. Clearly neither of them held any misconceptions of exactly what would happen when they reunited. And why not, he thought with a bit of a huff. They had been forced apart for over three years. The demon prince had tried to cleave them from one another by tainting their bond, but Lotor had failed. More than ever they needed one another. It seemed they wanted one another more than ever as well.

A deep, satisfied purr rumbled from his chest as he placed his palm to the glass, molding his fingers against his mate's. 

"Soon, baby. Soon."

Keith was ushered from the room shortly thereafter, up to the medical wing where Lira was waiting for him. Despite what he had said to Shiro, he was not entirely certain what this examination was for. Knair was the one who met with him regarding his medications and their side effects, but she was nowhere to be found when they entered the examination room. He was immediately suspicious.

"Undress." Lira commanded.

"I'd like to know what this is about first." he said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"A check-up." Ryvaina offered. "You appear to be physically reacting to your mate's presence, even quarantined as he is."

"I am?"

"You just made an offer of sexual gratification when he is released."

Color flooded Keith's cheeks. "I did no such thing!"

"I may be mateless, but I know an insinuation when I hear it. Do not take us for fools here, cub. Undress."

Keith growled softly, pulling his shirt over his head and sliding the pair of baggy sweat pants from his hips. He should be happy, he thought as he climbed onto the examination table and laid back. If he was reacting to Shiro's presence it meant that he was getting better. Of course it was yet to be seen if Shiro was getting better as well; if they met and his mate still reeked of the prince he had no doubt that his body would shut down immediately and he would be repelled once more. 

"Lower." Lira commanded.

Keith sat up on an elbow. "Lower?" He had expected her to begin a scan.

Lira stared back at him steadily, seated at the foot of the examination table with a set of tools at hand.

_Oh._

With an unhappy grumble, he slid lower, biting back an embarrassed yelp when the woman's large hands settled on his thighs and forced them apart. It had been a good while since he had a hands-on check-up. Such advanced technology had rendered human interaction useless. He had liked that fact. There was nothing the naked eye could see that a scan could not uncover even quicker. 

When Lira dug her lubricated fingers into his tight entrance and pushed, he jerked, choking on his own breath. 

Ryvaina's hand settled on his shoulder, keeping him flat. "Calm."

"I _am_ calm." he huffed, nails digging into the side of the table. 

It was a rough endeavor, laying still while Lira inserted one tool after the next, prodding, spreading, taking samples. His breath was coming in anxious little puffs, but Keith consoled himself with the knowledge that it was a far less painful and humiliating process than the examinations done on earth. He remembered the annual exams he had to undergo at the garrison, squatting on hands and knees while some ham-handed doctor prodded his insides violently, asking him an assortment of prying questions that he knew the alphas were never asked. At least he was spared the indignity of being bent over like an animal; the position he was currently in was far more comfortable and respectable.

A memory came suddenly of the time the doctor had been too forceful with him and he had bled. The doctor had regarded his pain and blood with minimal concern, suggesting he stick a wad of tissue inside to stem the bleeding. It had hurt, but he had refused to show any weakness, limping from the doctor's office with head held high...until he had made it to Shiro's dorm and he had collapsed in his mate's arms. He spent the night bleeding on Shiro's sheets, listening to the boy fume about how he was going to sue the doctor. 

"One more test." Lira said, getting to her feet, hand still inside. 

Keith eyed her warily.

"Your insides are healthy." she said, leaning forward and pressing down on his belly. 

A strained grunt escaped him. "I didn't doubt it."

"You're swelling." Lira stated at the end of her examination, pulling her fingers free with such speed that he gasped in relief at their departure.

Immediately, Keith closed his legs, dropping them back onto the table, closing himself off as much as possible. He scrabbled for his shirt, yanking it on and tugging the hem over his thighs. 

"Swelling?" he asked with a stutter, clearing his throat a moment later. "What do you mean swelling? Do I have an infection?" That was the last thing he needed. 

"Swelling in preparation for taking your mate." Lira explained. At his prolonged stare she clarified, "Your body is readying itself to go into heat."

He chewed on that news all through the night, shocked into silent contemplation. Ryvaina escorted him to the mess hall for dinner then back to his room where she performed several tests of her own. His doctors seemed pleased with their findings, taking the results as a positive sign of his recovery. He supposed it was good news, but for him it was terrifying.

All night he lay awake, keenly aware of the places his hands rested on his body, sitting heavy on his hip and beneath his rib cage. Each subtle throb or ache stirred his breath into an anxious huff. Was it random pain from his training or was it something more natural? Was the soreness of his muscles a sign of being taxed or of milk coming? Was the throb in his belly nerves or primal hunger?

It seemed impossible to think that his body was awakening after so long. How long had it been, he wondered. Nearly two years, if his calculations were correct. The last time he had been in heat was when Lotor-- He cringed, gripping the blanket and derailing the train of thought. That was an unwelcome memory and he would not allow it to rise up and ruin his mood.

He had thought that Lotor had ruined him for good. Only a day after the assault, his body was reacting, shutting down, refusing to function properly. His mind quickly followed suit and he was spiraling out of control. By the grace of god and Coran's loving, helpful hand, he managed to pull himself back just enough to put on the facade of being well. In his heart, he knew how damaged he was. He hated himself for what Lotor had done and he wanted to hurt himself more for betraying his mate. 

When news had surfaced that Shiro was alive, his heart had soared and immediately plummeted. He was not the man his mate deserved. When Shiro returned, he knew that the man would be eager for his company. He had agonized with himself for weeks how to address the situation, how to gently but firmly push his mate away without outright revealing his shame. 

He had not told Shiro, but the first time the man pushed to have him, he had vomited. He fled his mate's company and was immediately ill. His body might have stirred with some interest for a moment, his passion flickering to life, but fear grounded his lust. The idea of bedding his mate after being tainted by the prince was too foul. He could not soil their bed, a place of love and trust, with the prince's stench. 

Things were better now though. Certainly far from alright, but he craved Shiro's touch once more. He longed to have back what they once shared. His hand moved from his hip, sliding against his belly and then lower. The idea of going into heat was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Laying with his mate was no longer a repulsive notion. It would not be so simple as baring himself to Shiro when the first signs of his heat appeared, he knew, but they could start the journey. He was no longer afraid. He pressed his fingers against himself, thinking of the times they has spent abed, biting back a moan as he arched in response. 

All through the night he touched himself, flinching and quivering at the pads of his own fingers. Emotions burned in his chest as he became familiar with his own body once more. It seemed so foreign, the planes of his body alien and unknown. His fingers remembered though, seeking out the soft spots, the sensitive spots that made him ache and whine. Fire burned in his veins and he allowed himself his pleasure. He was taking back what Lotor had stolen; his body was still his and, he was happy to find, he could still take pleasure in it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Shiro thinks, it's better not to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: RAPE! 
> 
> THIS CHAPTER FEATURES A SEMI-GRAPHIC RAPE SCENE! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE OR TRIGGERED TO THAT MATERIAL! PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!
> 
> Author note: 
> 
> Well, this sucks. Literally wanted to drink while writing this chapter. You ready for the sheith, because we're moving forward with that next chapter. I'm going to go play in dadverse where it's happy.
> 
> Also, look on my tumblr for updates on next chapter posting. I think we all know what we'll be doing next Friday. So chapter may be up on Saturday, or the even the week after.

WARNING: RAPE! 

THIS CHAPTER FEATURES A SEMI-GRAPHIC RAPE SCENE! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE OR TRIGGERED TO THAT MATERIAL! PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!

Chapter 17

“You look exhausted.” 

Keith glanced through the glass, his hands clenched tightly between his thighs to hide his trembling. He attempted to smile, but his lips only twitched before falling back into place. What was it Lance had said he had? Resting bitch face. He shook his head, wondering why he was thinking of that of all times. He was cold, he knew that well, but even he could not hide terror. Fear he masked well; it came with the territory of charging into battle on a near daily basis. If he felt weakness, he hid it. No one could see fear in the faces of the paladins of Voltron, especially not when he had been the leader. Fortunately for him, the thrill of the battle overcame the anxious thumping of worry that so often stalled others. Terror was different though. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned his body so that he was facing Shiro. “I want to talk now.”

“Talk?” Shiro echoed, brows drawn in concern. He thought that he knew what Keith might be alluding to, but he did not want to make any assumptions. 

“I want—no, I don’t _want_ to tell you, but I have to tell you—about...Lotor.”

Shiro froze, his heart stopping for a moment. Blood roared in his ears, his cheeks heating oddly. The time had come then. 

“You don’t have to, Keith. I know enough of what happened. If you don’t want to talk about it, if you want to acknowledge that it happened and put it behind you, I accept and encourage that.” 

Ever since he had gained confirmation of Keith’s assault, Shiro had ached for details. When first he had asked Coran, all those weeks ago, the man had refused to say a word. It was not his place to speak, Coran had said, a miserable look upon his usually cheery face. Shiro felt he needed to know exactly what happened. The longer he dwelled on the matter and the more he examined his own thoughts, he realized he was obsessing. Guilt struck him hard when he came to the conclusion that, as concerned as he was about Keith’s health, his morbid curiosity was also spurred by his own desire for revenge. It was not fair to Keith, to try and pry intimate information from him for the sake of vengeance. 

Keith gazed at him through the glass, face sallow, eyes dark. He had been dreading this moment, Shiro could tell. He would have had similar dread, he knew. He held his own secrets that he needed to share. But today was for Keith.

“I need to tell you,” the man said quietly, “because I betrayed you.”

“Keith,” he shut his eyes and pressed his hand to the glass, “you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Keith lowered his eyes. “It’s true.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Shiro said sternly, already worried about how this conversation would play out. He knew rape victims often felt guilt, but he had hoped that Keith’s strength would carry him through it. Of course, Keith was only human. It was unfair to expect too much from him. “Lotor—forced you.”

Tears were starting to form, but Keith pushed them back vehemently. He would get through this without crying; he was determined. He kept his eyes to the ground as he continued. “Lotor forced me...but I went to him.”

There was a pause. 

“You...went to him?”

“Yes.” It hurt. Saying those words caused more pain than Keith thought he could feel. “He called for me. And I went.”

Shiro shook his head. “You wouldn’t go to him—what do you mean he called? I don’t understand.”

“He’s an alpha. He called.”

“That’s not possible.” He knew Lotor was a strong alpha, but not strong enough to call even the weakest willed omega from across a galaxy. Had the prince been closer to the paladins than Shiro had been led to believe? He shuddered to think that somehow Lotor had snuck onboard the ship. Ulaz had done it once, so why not Lotor? He was growing frantic. “Keith, how did he call you?”

The question drew Keith from his contemplation of the floor. He stared at his mate blankly, but pain shimmered in his eyes. “They didn’t...tell you?”

_Oh, god._ Shiro swallowed heavily. “Who didn’t tell me what?”

Keith sighed, casting his eyes down again. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell—we really need to have a group discussion about communication when we get back to the Castle of Lions.”

Shiro agreed heartily, having been at the mercy of such lack of communication, but he did not care right then. He stared at his mate, afraid of what would be said next. Keith fiddled with his fingers a moment before sucking in a deep breath. Squaring his shoulders, he fixed Shiro with a stern expression. 

“He called me the same way that you can.” He lifted a hand to to the collar of his shirt and pulled, baring his neck and part of his shoulder. 

An ugly patch of scar tissue sat at the juncture of Keith’s neck, near his shoulder. Comprehension was slow to dawn for Shiro. He saw nothing unusual in the mating mark. It was a bit larger than he remembered...and closer to Keith’s shoulder...and on the wrong side. All at once his stomach plummeted, the breath leaving his lungs in a shocked gasp. 

“He—bonded with you?”

A wet cough slipped from Keith’s throat as he hastily tugged his collar back into place. “I couldn’t break the bond, no matter how I tried. Kolivan’s doctors spent ages working on me, but nothing… We tried to stay away from Lotor. It was the only fail safe we had, but it didn’t matter. He still found me. He called and I went to him.”

Shiro sat heavily in his chair, curling his fingers around the legs as he tried to prepare himself for the tale to come. He did not want to know. How stupid had he been, to want the details? How selfish had he been? Keith didn’t want to speak; he felt compelled to though. Shiro tried again to reassure his mate that there was no need to carry on with the painful story, but Keith refused. He needed to speak. Maybe it wasn’t just guilt that compelled Keith. Maybe, Shiro thought, it would be cathartic. 

Taking a steadying breath, Keith closed his eyes, digging through his memories, and began.

===========

The heat was unbearable, causing his skin to flush and every pore in his body sweat. The wetness between his legs was a herculean irritation that refused to be ignored, no matter how many times he touched himself, no matter what he inserted inside of himself. No sword hilt, utensil handle, or any number of fingers could satisfy him. His cock ached horribly, but refused to soften. His bed was covered in semen, but still he ached. 

“Shiro...”

Keith whined, sliding his fingers inside of his loose, slick passage. Heat was always a miserable experience, but it was so much worse having had a mate and knowing the pleasure of being filled and knotted. Shiro could utterly sate him. The man’s sheer size alone used to ease the worst of his internal itches, but when his mate swelled inside of him, locking them together, he knew pure bliss. But now he was alone. His claiming mark was unattended, the skin almost entirely knitted together and becoming nothing more than a memorable scar. 

He mourned his mate. His heart ached more than his body. The only love he had ever known had been taken from him and he knew that he would never love again. Many had made passes at him, others encouraged him to move on. Once or twice he had felt a vague stirring of interest at a particularly dashing man showing interest, but inevitably something always reminded him of Shiro and his heart broke all over again. 

For hours he laid abed, weeping and pleasuring himself—or attempting to. Nothing ever felt right. The rest of the castle had shut down perhaps an hour or two ago, the rest of the paladins and crew retreating to their beds. The days seemed to be growing more tedious. Every day was a chore and they all felt the lure of their beds. For a time, Keith drifted, caught between the release of sleep and the infuriating state of unabashed arousal plaguing his body. 

And then he felt it: the pull of something primal, urging him towards it. Keith’s eyes snapped open, heart hammering. For a wonderful, brief moment he thought that he had felt Shiro. His overwhelming joy came crashing down just as quickly as he felt something else beneath the surface, something darker, something insidious. His neck began to throb and he knew all at once what-- or who he felt. 

The draw was impossible to resist. No matter how he tossed, no matter how he paced, no matter how he tried to ignore the call, he could not. His hand flew to the mark on his neck. Not Shiro’s mark, he seethed. It was Lotor’s mark, forced on him while he kicked and screamed, cursing the prince’s name and bloodline as Lotor dug nails into him and sank teeth into his pliant flesh. 

His ‘mate’ was calling. 

Each plodding step he took towards the hangars was like walking to the gallows. Tears streamed down his face. His nails left deep gauges in the walls as he fought to regain control of himself. _Think of Shiro_ , he begged himself, praying the thought of his dead mate would be the slap he needed to stop himself. It was not. His tears gushed, but still he walked on. _Think of the paladins. Think of the universe. You’re betraying everyone!_ Still he walked on.

By the grace of some god, Lotor thought only of drawing him from the castle and not of the lions. Keith was able to pull together enough autonomy to move past the lion hangars and to the pod bay. At least he would not deliver the rebellion’s greatest hope directly to the hands of the empire. He refused to think on what could happen if he had brought the Black Lion to Lotor’s ship. 

He had Lotor’s call to guide him. The stars blinked at him as he sat quietly in the pod, breath heaving in his chest. His hands laid still in his lap. He thought about jerking the gear shift, turning the ship in some other direction and fleeing, but he could not find the will to move. There was no will inside of him but Lotor’s. 

There was little for him to do but compose himself and forge a mask of steel. He would need the facade. The call grew stronger the closer he got to the prince’s ship. There would be no fighting it. He would still try; it was not in his nature to give in, but he would also prepare to lose with as much dignity as he could. As if Lotor would allow him such a thing as dignity. He knew exactly what the prince wanted from him; the man had made his intentions known ages ago. 

When he docked and jumped from the pod, his eyes were dry, blazing in indignation. Lotor was not worth his tears. Only Shiro was worth his tears. His hands hung limply at his side, though he managed to force his fingers into loose fists. 

Lotor was there to greet him, standing tall and proud amid his brood. It wasn’t enough to just call for him, Keith seethed, talking a step forward as the prince beckoned. No, he had to take a walk of shame. So be it. Years of enduring Lance’s constant innuendos and taunts had toughened his skin. They would get no reaction from him. He kept his head held high as he walked past the guards, ignoring their sneers and jeering. 

When he was a foot away from the prince his feet stopped. Lotor smiled, a predatory look in his eyes.

“Ah, my darling. You came.” He looked Keith up and down, taking in his prize. “You look best when you’re fighting spirit is ablaze.”

Keith scowled. No one was allowed to use such names with him. No one but Shiro. He opened his mouth, but, sensing that he would argue, Lotor lifted a hand. 

“ _No speaking. Come with me._ ”

Keith’s mouth snapped shut and he reached for the hand that had been offered. Again he had the distinct, sinking feeling of walking to his death. Realistically, it was the end he ought to expect. Lotor would never allow a paladin to live if their neck was within the immediate vicinity of his hands. All he could do was pray that Lotor chose to make it quick and not to make a spectacle of him as lesson to all the rebellion. So it was to be sex and death, he thought, growing numb to idea. At least he would be with Shiro soon.

When they arrived at the prince’s quarters, Keith was only somewhat surprised to find that the prince occupied a set of royal chambers. Apparently even aboard a warship, Lotor demanded the luxury he was entitled to. If he had been able to speak, Keith would have made a cutting remark. He settled for thinking it, cringing as the prince dropped his hand and touched his waist.

“Inside, dear.”

_I’m not your dear._

The door shut and locked. When they were safely sealed away from prying eyes, all semblance of gentleness was dropped. Lotor spun him violently, taking a moment to relish the look of mounting fear on Keith’s face. Releasing a pleased hiss, the prince spun him again, grabbing the collar of his shirt and tearing it from his body. The rest of his clothing followed quickly after until he was left naked and trembling before the prince’s hungry eyes.

“Mine.”

Keith shuddered, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. 

_Not yours. I only belong to Shiro. I’ve only ever belonged to Shiro._

Perhaps the prince sensed his thoughts. Or perhaps he was just as violent in the bedroom as he was on the battlefield. A sharp slap to his face distracted Keith’s attention as he was grabbed by the throat and thrown onto the prince’s bed. He gasped for air as Lotor’s fingers sunk into his windpipe, his free hand running claws over Keith’s flailing legs. 

“ _Stop struggling._ ”

His body went limp. The pressure on his throat eased some and Keith sucked in greedy breathes, his limbs dead. He wanted to kick Lotor in the face. He wanted to reach up and claw his eyeballs out and eat them. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted Shiro. 

Lotor’s eyes traveled over his body, glowing in anticipation. A pleased purr slipped from his throat as he placed a hand on Keith’s leg and nudged his knees apart. Keith flinched. He despised feeling so vulnerable and bare. He commanded himself to close his legs and get up, to fight, to run, to move his arm, all to no avail. His hands remained immobile at his side. 

“Lovely.” Lotor praised him genuinely before leaning in, nose to nose. “I have longed to play with you for some time now and I will enjoy this time we have.” 

He moved lower, kissing a trail from Keith’s neck, down his chest, past his belly, and paused at the juncture of his legs. Keith thanked his god that Lotor did not touch his cock and instead leaned into his thigh and inhaled.

“Your heat smells wonderful, darling.” 

_I’m NOT your darling!_

Lotor glanced up at his face, his wolf grin in place. “I have looked forward to this smell, but I look forward more to the scent of your pregnancy.” The prince must have mistaken the blank look on his face, Keith thought later. Lotor laughed in dark amusement. “Oh, yes, my sweet one. I will get you in whelp shortly. Does that thought please you, omega? I notice that your prior mate has failed in his duties as an alpha.”

Fire burned in Keith’s eyes. He opened his mouth, but was commanded again into silence.

“Let us not speak of the false alpha.” Lotor murmured, taking a heavy sniff. 

Keith turned his eyes to the ceiling, fighting to retain his composure. This would happen, whether he liked it not, he reminded himself as panic began descending him. He had to be strong. If he did not look, it would not be so bad. Let the prince do as he would. 

Lotor’s fingers moved up and down his legs, stopping at his belly. His voice trembled with unbridled desire when next he spoke. “You were made to carry. This belly needs to be filled. I will get you with my litter tonight, do you hear me, paladin? You, the Head of Voltron, will carry my young. Do you like that idea? Is that what my bitch desires?”

He lost his battle. Tears slid from the corners of Keith’s eyes, but still he refused to look. 

He did not notice when Lotor undressed. When the prince’s fingers entered him, dry and probing, he cringed. His passage was wet with his slick, but his body knew that this was not what he wanted. His muscles contracted painfully tight around Lotor’s fingers as they were pumped into him. He heard the man chuckle and refused to dwell on what the prince might be thinking.

Thoughts of school popped into his head, giving the moment an odd, surreal feel. As if the fact that he had no control of his body was not surreal enough. It was a bad dream, he told himself, squeezing his eyes tighter. He thought of the omegas at school who hated him. He thought of the one time they had welcomed him into their ranks and they discussed the cruel fate that awaited them as omegas in an alpha-run world. He remembered the tales they told and the coping mechanisms they used. _Just drift away, pretend it isn’t real and you can endure_ , Sally McCullen’s voice spoke sadly from the annals of his memory, guiding him. Her dour face apparated in his mind’s eye, her dark eyes boring into his soul apologetically. They shared the same fate. She had always known they would. Every omega knew that they would one day share the same fate. Keith had thought he had outrun the beast, that he was the one fortunate omega in all the universe. 

The vision of Sally McCullen vanished as a flash of white hot pain tore through his body, lighting his nerves in agonizing fire. His eyes flew open, a hoarse cry ripped from his throat as he convulsed around the prince. It felt like flames ripping him in two, the pain flickering from ungodly to just bearable. His eyes flicked to Lotor, crouched above him, leering at him like a wolf. It was a mistake. His eyes were caught in the prince’s fierce gaze, pinning him, stripping him of the last walls of resistance he had built up. 

For a brief time, Keith forgot pride. He forgot dignity and honor and he groveled. He begged, screamed, pleaded. Words fell from his lips that he had never thought he would ever speak. _You are no paladin of Voltron_ , the darkness in his head hissed, _you are a weak bitch who could not maintain the face of dignity that a paladin needs to possess_. For those first agonizing minutes, he had not cared. If begging would spare him some pain, so be it. 

All of his pretty pleas fell on deaf ears. Lotor hummed and crooned at him teasingly, amused at his pain and degradation. When the realization that he would not be spared finally broke through the wall of hysteria, an unexpected wave of acceptance crashed in. He fell silent. _Drift away_ , Sally McCullen’s voice whispered. He shut his eyes once more, taking the advice of a dead girl and drifting, pretending that none of it were happening. 

=================

Shiro listened to the last bit of the story with eyes closed, fighting to remain composed for Keith's sake. He tried not to flinch as his mate described his frantic flight from the battleship, running naked through the halls, crashing into drones and breaking them with bare hands before miraculously making it to the pod and back to the Castle of Lions. He was not a particularly pious man, Shiro admitted, but he had been known to pray now and then. He believed in the guiding hand of a Higher Power, although he tended to believe that he had been forsaken by such a being for years. Hearing the harrowing tale of Keith's escape, he could not help but believe there had been some benevolent force assisting. Once one was drawn into Lotor's clutches, it should be impossible to escape. That Keith managed to outmaneuver not only the prince, but his henchmen as well was nothing short of a miracle.

"You must hate me."

"What?" Shiro's eyes flew open. 

He found Keith leaning towards the glass, eyes wet, staring at him with a forlorn expression. Clearly, when he began his story, he had a preconceived idea of how it would be taken. As if his heart hadn't taken enough torment, Shiro lamented. Lotor had shredded every ounce of trust and confidence Keith possessed. Even now, years after the fact, with the support of the best physicians available, surrounded by allies and family, Keith was still unable to see himself as the victim. It was never in Keith's nature to play victim; he was not all that surprised.

He stood, pressing both hands to the glass. "How could you ever think that?" he asked softly. "Of course I don't hate you."

Keith shook his head, scrubbing at his eyes. "This is my fault."

" _Your_ fault? Keith--"

"I was weak. I didn't fight hard enough. I let him take me and--"

If there was a way to summon the Blades, Shiro would have done so. One of his greatest shortcomings, he knew, was his inability to deal with the trauma of others. Ironic, given how intimately he knew soul-eating guilt and self-loathing. Unfortunately, the panic of others tended to bring his own demons to the surface. For his mate, he would push through the chest-tightening apprehension. 

"Keith." he cut into the man’s self-directed tirade sharply.

His mate snapped his mouth shut.

"I need you to listen to me and hear what I am saying." Shiro said slowly and evenly, mindful to keep his voice soft.

Keith stared at him and nodded once.

"None of this— _any_ of this--is your fault. Lotor is to blame, not you. You are the victim here, not the villain." His mate was shaking his head furiously. "Keith, you did not allow him to mark you, you did not want him to call for you. You did not go to him willingly. None of that was done with your consent. You understand that, don't you? You _couldn't_ fight back!"

"I could have!"

"You literally could not, Keith! He would never have allowed it! He wanted you vulnerable because he knew it was the only way he could have you!"

Nothing he said was getting through. Keith leaned forward and slammed his head against the glass repeatedly, growing and whining between broken accusations against himself. A smear of blood appeared on the glass and Shiro panicked, falling into his alpha tone. 

"Keith, _stop_!"

"I've ruined everything!" he sobbed, pressing his hand to the glass in front of Shiro's face. "I ruined us."

"You did not--"

"I could have had you back. We could have been together." A low, mournful keen echoed in the room. "Instead I forced you away."

Shiro cringed, pawing wildly at the glass. He needed to get out. He needed to hold his mate, to comfort him. " We _will_ be together." he declared vehemently, curling his fingers against the glass when his frantic pawing produced no results. "That bastard has done a lot of things to us, but he hasn't torn us apart. I am your mate and you are mine, no matter what ugly mark he's left on you. I love you and I have never stopped loving you. I will _never_ stop loving you."

"How can you possibly say that? I told you to disappear!"

Shiro flinched, recalling that cutting remark vividly. A fire of hate had blazed in his mate's eyes as he spat the insult. It still chaffed him to think on it, to be told by the one he loved most in the universe to leave and never be seen again. And yet, in light of all they knew now...

"You didn't say that to me." Shiro said gently. "You said that to Lotor."

Keith blinked red eyes at him.

"I know how much you love me. You would never say anything so cruel to me. But you didn't see me, not then. You hadn't for months." When he saw Keith about to protest, he cut him off. "Be honest with yourself, Keith. Within a week of my being at the castle, you were losing yourself. Your body knew, even if you didn't, that something was wrong with me."

"That's no excuse. I knew it was you standing there."

"You told me yourself that you couldn't tell what was real anymore. You had to rely on your instincts and your instincts told you to protect yourself."

At last Shiro’s words seemed to be reaching his mate. A hesitant expression settled on Keith's face, as if he were warring with himself, debating whether to trust in his lover's words. Shiro smiled, pressing his forehead to the glass.

"You protected yourself. Thank god you did! If you hadn't pushed me away, I could have hurt you. Not intentionally, but this--whatever it is he put inside of my body--is harmful to you. You and I could have been happily sharing a bed and you would have still gone insane."

"I don't believe--"

"I'm so proud of you."

Keith stared. He had to have misheard. He was hallucinating again. Shiro would never say those things to him, not after the hell he had put the man through. But the look in Shiro’s eyes, the soft expression of love easing the lines of his tired face, the warmth in his features—could it be real? He wasn’t deserving of forgiveness, but his heart raced at the idea that his mate still loved him as passionately as he loved him. He laid his forehead to the glass once more, a sharp pain reminding him of his prior self-abuse. A sniffle slipped out.

“I’m so proud of you.” Shiro whispered again, leaning his own forehead against the glass. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Keith keened weakly. “If I’m strong, it’s because I’ve had your shoulders to stand on.”

“Not true. You were strong long before I found you.”

He stood there, whispering words of encouragement to Keith until Ryvaina came and fetched him. Her eyes narrowed almost immediately as she sensed the man’s distress. When her questioning gaze swung his way, Shiro attempted to communicate with her through looks and subtle gestures. She understood well enough and, with gentle touches, urged Keith to his feet and back to his room.

The sudden emptiness of the room was like a knife in Shiro’s chest, reminding him of how isolated he was. He wanted to break through the wall and follow his mate. He wanted to scoop Keith up in his arms and never let go. He wanted to lay his scent on his mate, leave his own mark in Lotor’s place, and help Keith forget the horrors that the prince had heaped upon him. There would never be a way to permanently and completely erase the memories Lotor had left, but they could grow together. They could be the rock that the other needed. He refused to allow Lotor to win.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a hard fought battle, but finally they had reached the summit of their struggles. It was time to make or break them. Shiro prayed that they would not be broken again. 
> 
> WARNING FOR MENTION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR MENTION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS
> 
> I think this fic adequately fulfilled its tag of slow burn.
> 
> Also, announcement: There will be no update next week, the 11th, as I will be away on a birthday vacation! Update will be the the following week, on the 18th. I think I left you in a good place though.
> 
> We'll be back, recharged, and ready to take on Lotor!

There was a rock sitting in his belly, a hard mass that pressed upon his organs and made the simplest movement of walking a nausea-inducing chore. No position he contorted himself into could relieve the aching, heavy feel in his stomach. Laying on his back or side, sitting upright, bending with head between his knees--nothing helped. If he was still though the worst of the queasiness passed over him and he was left with a subtle throb in his abdomen, which he could mostly overlook. This medication was going to kill him, Keith thought, taking a deep breath and feeling his stomach shift unhappily. 

At least it was doing its job, he had that silver lining. Knair had altered the medication yet again, claiming that this time she believed she had found a chemical balance more suited towards his makeup and hormones. At the time, he had scoffed, thinking that he would believe her words when he saw results. Happily, it took little more than a week to see said results. Walking around with a rock in his belly was a small enough sacrifice to wake up each day and not immediately be crushed by the weight of guilt or debilitating depression that made him want to leap out an airlock. There was still a way to go before he recovered his drive to train and fight, but for the time being he was focusing on himself. It felt good to be a little selfish.

It felt far less good to be split from his mate. Alas, he was told that Shiro had not taken so well to an alteration of his medication. Near as Keith could tell, that meant the alpha had reared up once more and it was not safe for him to be near Shiro. Clear as his mind suddenly was, Keith found himself inexplicably drawn to the idea of going down to the lab, regardless of safety, and confronting the alpha. That would be a very bad idea, reason told him, but he was curious. He wanted to see just how far his mate succumbed to the alpha...and how much he could tolerate. 

Thankfully, his guard kept him from exercising his will to do something so foolish. Write, Ryvaina suggested again, an irritated frown on her face.

He raised a brow at her sour expression. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated a moment to respond. "You are not yet in heat."

"Oh." 

He hadn't even thought of it since Lira's examination. He had been somewhat more preoccupied with the emotional downpour his confession to Shiro had brought about. He was exhausted. Heat was the last thing on his mind.

"It doesn't matter." Until he was back in Shiro's physical presence, being in heat was of little consequence. Of course, the little bit of time he had dwelled upon the actuality of it, the more he thought he and Shiro needed to have a very clear discussion of what such a shared time would mean. 

Ryvaina stared at him a moment longer, as if he were willfully keeping himself from heat. If only it was that simple, he thought with a wry grin to himself. His heat had come upon him many inconvenient times. He had a vague memory of starting in the middle of class once and leaving a great puddle on the seat. 

She left him to his thoughts, most of which centered on his mate. The tablet awaited his direction. Settling in bed, he pulled the keyboard up and sat a moment, staring at a blank screen. Obviously, he ought to write to Shiro. The man was likely troubled and in need of a soothing word. After all the comfort his mate had given him the other day, it was only right that he return the favor. 

For an hour he toiled over his message. It was the sappiest drivel he had written in ages and he damn near gagged at his own mush, but it was an accurate reflection of his thoughts and feelings. His heart near burst each time he thought upon their impending reunion. He longed to be back in the man's arms, sharing a bed, being intimate in all the ways mates were. It had less to do with love making than simply being in one another's presence once more. The act of sitting together, side by side, only their hands touching, could be as fulfilling as coupling. He longed for that intimacy once more. For literal years, he had ached for companionship. Now it dangled before him, teasing him daily. 

_Soon_ , he told himself. He had to be patient. 

He sent his letter with as much love as he could muster (which sounded ridiculous coming from him) and pondered the blank screen again. There were friends he ought to check up on and a universe he should know about. He continued to stare at the screen as his mind wandered. Try as his might, he could not focus his thoughts on the now. He had taken to daydreaming in the past days. Sometimes he thought of pleasant memories, sometimes not. 

Sally McCullen's dead eyes popped into his mind and he wrapped his arms around himself. He did not know why her story had so effected him. She was a statistic. One in a dozen. Hardly the first omega to have her heart broken and her rights abused. Still, the injustice burned him. She had not needed to die. She was too young, too smart. She was an asset that would have taken the garrison to heights they only dreamed of, if they had only seen her potential. 

_What a waste_ , he thought. 

He could have easily been her. They already shared one miserable fate, the fate of every omega. One weak moment, a convenient airlock or bottle of pills, and he could have followed her example once more. He shut his eyes against the image of her slender frame poised on the ledge of the school roof, teetering a moment before spreading her arms, as if she were going to fly, and then--

Keith sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead. Sally had only been one girl. He had shut his eyes and plugged his ears to the stories of the other omegas at the garrison. They all knew what would happen to them; he did not need to know the sordid details of each story. If he had known which of his classmates, which of his fellow omegas, had been abused, which ones had been forced, which ones were wearing their shame, he would have never been able to unsee it. Forever, it would be the only thing he would see in their faces. Everyday it was the first thing he saw in his own reflection.

It wasn't fair and if ever their paladin duties took them back to the milky way, he was of a mind to return to earth and set the people straight on just how important the lives of omegas were. 

_She was sixteen..._

He began a new letter. Writing had always been cathartic. Words so often failed him when he spoke, but when he wrote he had time to pause, to think and plan what he would say. Ideas suddenly made sense. His thoughts became less hectic. Some of the most passionate declarations of love he had made to his mate were made in script form. Sometimes, he just needed to get the thoughts out of his mind. Speaking did not always vent the demons, but putting them to words released them. The demons were given shape, he was able to fully form them with the time it took to write, and he could exercise them properly. 

_Dear Sally..._

There were a great many injustices that he seethed over, many perpetrated upon his own person, but for the moment he was wholly consumed by remorse. He had not known Sally. He had not wanted to know her. He had not wanted to know anyone at the garrison. That was on him. It was debatable whether anyone, least of all him, could have had an effect on the outcome of Sally's life--and death--but he had always wondered if she just needed someone by her side. Had there been anyone holding her steady? Watching her back? Was that not the point of keeping to a pack? He did not know. What he did know was that without the guiding hands of his friends, he would have been lost. An airlock would have looked as appealing as a five story fall. 

It was not his fault. He could not help what had become of her. But he still felt sympathy for her.

_I'm sorry._

=============

When next Keith saw his mate, there was an obvious spiderweb of cracks in the glass partition. He eyed the damage suspiciously, if not a bit warily, looking to Shiro for some form of explanation. The man turned his head away guiltily. 

"You did that?"

Shiro grimaced, stealing a glance at the cracks. "...Yes."

That was a bad sign. The sudden separation made a good deal more sense. The alpha wasn't only out, it was wreaking havoc. In order for that type of damage to occur, the man would have had to use his bionic arm. If Keith wasn't mistaken, that type of glass was near shatter-proof. That Shiro had nearly broken it...

"What was he so mad about?" He hesitated to place the blame on Shiro's shoulders, when really he and the alpha were two entirely different entities.

Shiro sighed, leaning heavily into the back of his chair. "They tried to lower the serum dosage. It got too low. The alpha tried to get out."

"It looks like he almost did." Keith stared at the splintering glass, stomach turning. "Why did he want to get out?"

As if there was any doubt. Shiro gazed at him steadily. "You know why."

How would that encounter have gone, Keith wondered. If the alpha had been feeling better as of late, he might have only been mauled to the ground and stuck in the man's arms until the Blades came and freed him. He scoffed a second later. _Only._ Best not dwell on it. Of more importance was what this relapse meant for Shiro's overall health. The side effects of Lotor's drug were clearly long lasting and not going to leave without assistance anytime soon. 

"They have to be working on some sort of medication for you." Keith mused, drawing his legs to his chest. "We've been gone too long; Voltron hasn't been seen in two months at least. Time is running out."

Shiro sighed. God, he wanted to rest, but he was not willing to give up his time with Keith. He had missed his mate dearly while they had been separated. He wanted to hear Keith's voice. He wanted to see his face, to look into the man's eyes. Did they really need to discuss business right now? It was tedious. Just this once, he wanted to be selfish and think about himself.

His eyes drifted up Keith's legs, taking in his folded figure. He wondered what his mate looked like beneath the layers of baggy clothing. He knew the man's shape well enough, having seen him in paladin armor and the Blade of Marmora suit, but he wanted more. He wanted his mate laid out before him, the way he used to. Naked in bed, hiding nothing, welcoming him the way two loving mates should welcome one another.

"You're staring."

Shiro forced his eyes away, an embarrassed smile on his lips. "Sorry."

"You can't...smell me from in there can you?"

"Smell you?" That seemed a curiously specific question. "No, I can't. Why do you ask?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell me now." he pleaded softly.

Keith hesitated a moment, biting his lips. He supposed there would be no harm in telling. The glass was still solid between them and Shiro was clearly in control of himself. "I'm going into heat. Or so they tell me."

There was a tense pause. 

"Heat?" Shiro echoed. His nostrils flared slightly, as if he might be able to make out his mate's scent through the glass.

Keith regarded him with a somewhat unimpressed look. "Don't look so excited."

"I'm not."

That was a blatant lie and they both knew it. 

"It might not happen; it's been over a week since they said it should happen." Keith shrugged, as if unconcerned. "My system probably hiccuped." 

He would not admit it aloud, not yet at any rate, but he was disappointed. Miserable as it would have been, suffering the first heat of several years alone, it would also have been a welcome step towards reclaiming his body. Perhaps there was no hope for that. With everything that had happened in the last three or four years, he suspected his body might have entered a state of permanent shock and froze all its functions. At least he was already sterile, he had that small blessing. That crushing blow might have ended him, had it been delivered then. 

Shiro continued to stare at him with an expectant, near longing expression. He should not have said anything, Keith admonished himself. He had planted an expectation in his mate's head and he would never be able to meet it. He carefully steered the conversation to another less stressful topic. Somewhere between his review of Pidge's last letter to him and a rundown of his latest physical therapy acrobatics, Shiro dozed off. It was his turn to watch over his mate while he slept.

==================

As it so happened, not going into heat turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Having endured yet another exam at Lira's probing hands, his doctors were frustrated to say that he was not likely to go into heat for another few weeks, if at all. Why that was, they could not say, but Keith did not mind. Excited as he was, the notion of being in heat still terrified him a good deal and, whether he allowed Shiro to mate him or not, just having the man around would be comforting. If he could stand the smell of him.

"The alpha's chemistry has altered considerably since his initial treatment." Knair said evenly as she watched him swallow his morning dose of pills.

It was rare for all five of his guardians to be gathered in one place, but they were all present that morning, prodding and preening him. Their intense attention gave him a hint as to what day it was.

"So, you trust the alpha enough to let me in?"

They shared several looks among themselves.

"We trust the man." Lira eventually answered, grabbing his arm and drawing a sample of blood. Satisfied with the scan, she eyed him in approval. "And we trust you as well."

"I'm taking that to mean that you have a successful dosage prescribed to him."

"We do."

Keith frowned suddenly. "He's going to be on serum doses for the rest of his life, isn't he?"

"Until a cure is found." Knair said.

Which could very well be never. Or at least, not until long after their time. He supposed they should have expected a fate like this to befall one of them. One did not go head to head against an ancient dictatorship and expect to live a long and prosperous life. It was a miracle they had all survived to that point. That they had gotten away with only the loss of Lance's eye, his dignity, and Shiro's sanity was truthfully a blessing. 

Blessed or not, the news left him depressed. He was unable to put on a mask of joy, even as they prepared him for Shiro's arrival. No few chastisements were sent his way, but they did nothing to stir his spirits. 

\------------

The feeling of freedom rushed over Shiro in an overwhelming wave that threatened his composure before he even stepped from the cell. The door stood open. Freedom beckoned. He was no longer to be treated as animal or experiment. When he first crossed the threshold, he had to pause a moment and gather his breath. He could not believe the day had arrived. There was no time to get caught up in his emotions; the women were beckoning him, reminding him that his mate was waiting.

_Keith..._

He had waited so long. Weeks of treatment in the Blade base, months of antagonistic separation in the Castle, years forced apart while he was held prisoner. Finally, it was all over. He could only imagine the relief they would both feel when they finally came together. They were both exhausted, itching for reunion. Now it was time.

He all but ran into the room where Keith was waiting for him...and paused, realizing that he was alone. A weight dragged his heart into his stomach as he frantically glanced about. A panoramic view of the starry sky and undulating nebula greeted him. But no Keith.

"...You're waiting to bring him in?" he ventured hopefully, turning to address the women.

Knair huffed in irritation as she searched the spartan room. "He was here mere minutes ago."

It was to be expected, Shiro consoled himself. Of course Keith would be nervous. One of the last times they had been in close physical proximity, he had been attacked. Their bodies were ready for reunion, but Keith's mind apparently was not. Taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders slump and focused all of his will power to not feel disappointed. Patience was crucial. If his mate needed him to wait, then he would wait.

"Do you think I can stay here for awhile?" he asked dejectedly, staring forlornly out the window. "It's been so long since I saw the stars. It's...calming."

His request was granted. The guards filed out, softly muttering between themselves about the wayward paladin. Hopefully, they would not admonish Keith too harshly. If the man was running and hiding from him, it was a sign of ill tidings and ought to be taken seriously. 

Shiro tried not to think on the rejection. He sat on the bench before the bay window and stared at the stars, trying to find patterns, wondering exactly where they were in the universe. Were they close to earth? The draw of home had never been so strong. He still had family there. Or so he hoped. His parents would be older now, possibly nursing home age, but they ought to still be alive. If he hadn't felt bad enough, a pang of guilt struck him then, thinking of the suffering his poor parents must have endured, believing him to be dead and lost to space all those years. 

Maybe it was for the best. They did not need to know of his suffering at galra hands, his mutilation, the crippling stress and self-doubt that plagued him constantly. No parent would want to see their child endure such torment.

He did not know how long he sat before the stars, contemplating his life and many questionable choices, before the door hissed open. The sound of soft feet padding closer reached his ears before the subtle scent of omega male found its way to his nose. 

"He hasn't come back." Shiro murmured, gaze settled on a burning red star in the distance.

There was a pause.

"I'm here now."

Shiro jumped, rising to his feet. Turning, he found Keith standing in the center of the room, eyes dark and hesitant, staring at him expectantly. Even frightened, he detected a light of joy in the man's eyes.

"Keith...they said--you ran off."

Keith shrugged, frowning. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself like a barrier. "I started to feel ill, so I thought it best to remove myself."

"Your stomach?"

"Always. If it was that bad before you showed up, I didn't want to imagine what it would be like when we..." he trailed off, eyes darting away shyly. 

Keith could not pretend that he did not notice how close they were, that he was not effected by how near his mate was. His senses were tumbling over themselves; every breath brought him a new scent of the man's pheromones; he could hear the erratic way Shiro breathed; his eyes roved up and down the man's body, cataloging every bruise and cut. He was being similarly appraised.

Their eyes caught one another. 

Keith took a small step forward and sniffed. 

"Anything?" Shiro asked, voice shaking.

"Nothing yet..."

He took another step. And another. Shiro held himself still, clenching his fists at his sides. This was Keith's battle. He could not force the man's hand and rob him of his victory. His mate needed to come to him of his own volition. It was a slow battle, won inch by inch. Keith felt his nose bombarded with new scents left and right. Chemicals clung to Shiro's skin, there was the heavy scent of soap, and the scent of fear. That last one might have been his stench, he thought with a shaky inhalation of breath. 

He paused in his halting steps and looked up. Shiro stared at him, less than a foot away. The man could have reached for him easily, pulling him into his arms and pressing close, but Shiro did not. The man stood still as a stone, watching, waiting. Keith remembered those eyes, deep and dark, anchoring him, loving him.

He stood straight and blinked once, brows furrowed. 

Shiro swallowed thickly. "Do you smell anything?" _Do you smell him?_

Slowly, Keith shook his head. "No. Not yet."

They shared a long look. 

One foot apart. No glass. It was the closest they had been in months. If either of them were so compelled, they needed only raise a hand and they would touch, flesh to flesh. Shiro remained motionless. The man's body was tense; he clearly wanted to lean forward and wrap his arms around his mate, but he forced himself calm. It was his move to make, Keith saw. He lifted his hands hesitantly, pulling back once before he steeled his resolved and cupped his mate's face in his palms. Shiro's warmth seeped into his hands, welcoming his touch. 

It was time. 

Drawing in a steadying breath, he closed the space between them, stepping flush against his mate and burying his face into Shiro's neck. He held his breath a moment, terrified. A warm exhalation of breath puffed against the column of Shiro's neck and he shuddered. He felt Keith burrow into his neck, sniffing out his scent. He held perfectly still, breath caught in his lungs as he waited. And waited. 

Keith cried out suddenly, knees going weak, body collapsing into Shiros' arms. 

"Keith!" He grabbed the man around the waist, panicking a moment as he warred with the idea of picking the man up. What if he inadvertently triggered another attack? His hands shook in indecision.

The dilemma was solved for him as Keith's arms came around his neck, hooking him and dragging their bodies together.

"It's you!" Keith sobbed, digging nails into the man's shoulders and refusing to let go. "It's really you!"

Something inside of Shiro shattered. His held breathe exploded from his lips. The massive weight that had sat on his chest for months, slowly crushing him beneath its might, crumbled so suddenly he was left lightheaded. His head swam dizzily as he grabbed his mate, pulling the man against him as tightly as possible and together they sank to the floor. Keith sobbed into the crook of his neck, sucking in deep breathes of his scent, rubbing against his gland eagerly between shuddering breaths. 

"Keith...Oh, baby..." He threaded a hand in Keith's soft hair, free hand pressed firmly to his back. 

His mate hiccuped, fighting against the onslaught of tears crumbling him. Keith pulled back slightly, eyes shimmering with tears as he gazed at his mate.

"Shiro."

Finally, he saw the man. Not his attacker, not his enemy. His mate. His one true love. The only man he would ever love. The man he would die for. 

Shiro forgot how to breath when he felt Keith press their lips together. He lost all control of his body. Was it truly happening, he wondered. The moment felt surreal. It was too perfect. It was everything he had dreamed of for three years. But it _was_ happening. Keith was pressed against him, weeping tears of joy--not fear!--at his presence, kissing him. Suddenly the past months did not matter. It was as if they had never happened. Words and deeds that had harmed both of them were forgotten. It did not matter. They were together. 

He wrapped his arms around Keith, his mate, holding him tightly, the way he had meant to when returning to the castle all that time ago. 

Keith groaned into his mouth as he returned the kiss with passion, holding onto him fiercely as he clung to his mate. They parted as another hiccuping sob tore from Keith's throat, but Shiro could not resist peppering chaste kisses along the man's forehead and temples, crooning lovingly and murmuring every sweet thing he could think of. Keith sank into his embrace, rubbing at the tears as they fell. 

"I love you." Shiro murmured into his hair. 

The man sighed into his shoulder, keening weakly before kissing his collar. " I love you too. I always have..."

"I know." Shiro smiled, rubbing his cheek into his mate's neck, taking in his scent. "Somehow, I always knew."


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is a beautiful, painful process and it is one Shiro throws himself into head first, holding onto his mate's hand with the grip of a vice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we had a bit of a hiatus. For those of you who don't drop by my tumblr, I was away on vacation for a week and then I had to take another week off because I ended up in the hospital on that vacation and I needed a lot of time to recover apparently. Sucks.
> 
> But we're back now! My gift to you: SHEITH!

_How are you so beautiful?_

Shiro sighed into into the crook of his arm, staring across the room at his slumbering mate. A serene smile turned his lips as he drank in Keith's peaceful expression. _Perfect..._ Now and then a soft whine or groan would slip past the man's pouting lips as he dreamed about Shiro did not know what. Hopefully it was a good dream. 

Sleep was not likely to come for him anytime soon, Shiro was confident of that. He was content to while the night way staring at his mate. As emotionally drained as he was, his liberation from the labs that day had given him a boost of adrenaline, further fueled by having Keith in his arms once more. It had been an emotionally taxing moment for his mate though and shortly thereafter the man needed to be brought back to his room to rest. 

"I'm sorry." Keith murmured weakly, body lax and pliant in Shiro's arms as he carried the man down the hall.

Shiro hummed. "Sorry for what?"

"For..." he trailed off.

"You've been through a lot, Keith. More than you deserve. You don't have to apologize for anything--least of all to me. If you need to rest then it's best to listen to the demand. You push yourself too hard. I'm happy to have you back in my arms."

Judging by the look on his face, Keith was not buying it. It hurt Shiro, how hard his mate was on himself. Keith expected too much of himself, compared himself to others and criticized himself when he felt short of his high aspirations. He was his own worst enemy. Shiro leaned down and nuzzled his mate, earning a surprised keen. 

"Alright, point taken." Keith sighed, burrowing into his embrace. 

It was a privileged to be allowed into Keith's room so soon after reunion, but the man did not hesitate to unlock the door. The thought of keeping him out had not even crossed Keith's mind, it appeared. When he placed his mate into bed, they stared at one another a long moment. 

Keith grimaced, guilt coming to his eyes. "Shiro--"

"I know. We aren't ready for that yet. I didn't expect that." He hesitated. "Can I stay until you fall asleep?"

Could he handle that, Keith asked himself. The rank smell of the prince no longer clung to Shiro's skin like a subtle perfume, warning him away, but his worries were not completely dispelled. No amount of soap or cologne could cover the powerful scent of alpha male. It made his skin crawl. Not necessarily in a bad way any longer, but the sensation was still unnerving.

He glanced towards the corner of the room then back to Shiro. "...Would you mind?"

Shiro glanced to the corner as well. "That sounds like a safe idea. Do you have your knife?"

"Knife?" Keith echoed, producing the blade a second later.

"Good. Keep it at hand. ...Just in case."

Just in case. That did not make Keith feel better about the anxious strain in his stomach. There truly was nothing to worry about, he reassured himself. If Shiro thought the alpha might rear up, he would surely not stay in the same room. His mate was nothing if not scrupulously mindful of his limitations and how they could affect those around him. After the hell they had gone through, Shiro would not risk an incident. 

They settled in their respective spots, turned on their sides to face the other. It felt like too much space to Shiro, but at least there wasn't a sheet of 9 inch glass between them. If he wanted to, if Keith trusted him enough, he could slide closer and take his mate's hand. 

The air between them continued to hold some tension. There was no longer an undercurrent of anger, fear, and aggression. Something lingered though, something that took a moment for Shiro to place his finger on. _Want._ They both wanted more. The silence at least was companionable. There were still hundreds of things they wished to say, but the time for apologies and excuses had passed. They understood one another again. They knew each other. 

Keith sighed, eyes drooping shut as he let the exhaustion in. "Shiro?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head.

"Stay."

Shiro stared, heart thundering, blood roaring in his ears as his face heated. He smiled, settling once more. "Goodnight, baby."

Keith had fallen into slumber within minutes, breathing growing shallow, the lines of worry disappearing from his face. There were a number of dark circles beneath the man's eyes, but Shiro thought he looked healthier, better rested. A bit longer and he hoped Keith would be back to some semblance of normalcy. They would still encounter a bump or two as they continued on their path to full recovery, but it seemed that they had gained good headway in the direction they needed to go.

For hours he lay on the floor, eyes drifting shut only to flick open a second later and search out his mate across the way. _Stupid_ , he chided himself with a giddy smile. Keith was not going anywhere. His mate was happily curled into a ball beneath his blanket, enjoying some well deserved rest. Still, he felt an insatiable need to remain vigilant. 

Exhaustion eventually overcame his desperation and he fell into a black sleep...only to be woken a few short hours later by the soft, pitiable whimpers of his mate. Immediately, Shiro was alert, sitting up and peering at the bed. Keith was still a moment, face scrunched up in an expression of pain a moment before a strangle cry broke from his lips. His hands thrashed beneath the blanket, struggling against an unseen assailant.

"Keith!"

Shiro was across the room in a second, kneeling beside the bed and pausing only to consider what to do. Should he call for help or take matters into his own hands? He feared that there might be a lingering stench of the prince about that would make his mate's panicked nightmares worse. He bit his lip hard, considering.

"Baby?"

Keith jerked, he hoped in response to the sound of his voice. Still, he hesitated to touch.

"I'm here, baby. Everything is alright. It's just a dream."

He sat for several minutes, shushing and crooning at the man until, when Keith began to relax, he felt confident enough to take his mate's hand. Keith tensed a moment in his sleep, then a great sigh of relief passed his lips. It encouraged Shiro to bring the man's wrist to his cheek and nuzzle the scent gland there. 

"I'm here." he crooned, pressing a kiss to the inside of the man's wrist. "I'll always be here. Now and forever. I promise."

It was startling how quickly the fit ended afterwards. As if hearing his soothing words through the haze of sleep, Keith keened softly, body relaxing into his blankets, and he continued on peacefully. Shiro was stunned. Had his presence had such a profound and positive effect? He struggled to believe it, but it seemed to be true. The women had been right. There was always hope.

He settled beside the bed with a content smile plastered to his face...and came awake to an eruption of white, blinding pain as feet collided with his face. A moment later he felt something soft and heavy strike his shoulder as it fell to the ground. Cupping a hand over his throbbing nose, Shiro forced his eyes open, blinking away tears of instinctual pain.

_What on earth was...Keith!_

The man groaned, sprawled on his side with head cradled in his arms. Keith's lean legs were tangled, ankles hooked together awkwardly. He was struggling, looking almost fish-like as he fought to untangle his ankles, too dazed to comprehend the problem. Shiro scuttled over, carefully rearrange his mate's limbs before laying a hand on his back.

"Keith? Are you alright? Did you need something?"

Another soft groan answered his query. A moment later, the man found enough energy to sit up and gather stock of his surroundings. "I fell..."

"Yeah, I was on the floor by your bed. I'm sorry. I didn't even think about the possibility of you getting up in the middle of the night."

Keith stared at him a long moment before shaking his head. Whatever he thought of that excuse, Shiro was uncertain; the man heaved himself off the ground with a self-suffering sigh and disappeared into the bathroom. Some minutes later, Keith trudged back, barely sparing him a glance before falling back into bed and crashing back into slumber. Had he even been awake, Shiro wondered, leaning over the side of the bed, monitoring the slow rise and fall of his mate's chest. 

All seemed to be well, he decided, sliding closer towards the wall. They would not need another incident the coming morning. Gods knew his nose would not tolerate another beating without excessive complaint; he could feel a clot of blood somewhere in the back of his nose, waiting to make sleep a wheezing, hacking pain. Less than twenty four hours together and already they were colliding. Reacquainting would be a greater hurdle than he had suspected. With luck, the following day would be easier.

========

"What happened again?" Keith asked, distractedly massaging a lump of impressive size on the side of his head. He had no recollection of the injury, but he surmised it was new, if his mate's swollen, red nose were any indication. That had also not been present the day before.

"You stumbled over me and fell face first onto the floor." Shiro answered, rubbing circles into the bridge of his nose as he worked to dislodge the wad of dried blood stuck in his nose. It was driving him to distraction.

Keith supposed that was a believable story; he had no reason to doubt the man. He had no recollection of the fall or even getting up, but his memory had grown spotty as of late. There were pits where there should have been memories. 

He turned his attention to breakfast, a form of mashed root vegetable and some strips of meat. The meat he happily consumed, but the vegetable was only palpable doused in the red hot sauce Hunk had thoughtfully provided him before departing. Good man. Keith made a mental note to thank the man. Then, considering his weak memory, turned to Shiro.

"Remind me to thank Hunk when we get back to the castle."

The man hummed and Keith could see the gears in his mate's eyes as he made the mental note. 

"Noted."

Keith took a moment to examine the man's face. Something was wrong. It was not the usual sense of foreboding that plagued him, thankfully. He narrowed his eyes, honing on the source of his concern: Shiro was unhappy. Despite the smile etched onto the man's face, he could see that the light in his mate's eyes had dulled, the air around him growing thick with tension. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine, baby. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged casually. "You look unhappy. Is it the food? Because it is pretty crappy."

A soft laugh escaped Shiro. "No, it's not that. I just...worry about when we return to the castle."

"Hmm." 

Keith did not blame the man. It would be a whole new step in the process of recovery, coming together with the splintered remains of their group. They had hurt each other, attacked one another. They had not acted as the family they touted one another as. A great part of that was his fault, he admitted. He had been leader and, ultimately, he was discovering he had not been a great leader this time around.

"They'll be happy to see us." he said at length, prodding at his mash with his fork.

"Will they?"

The soft, wistful tone gave Keith pause. "Why do you say it like that?"

"They'll be happy to see you, I'm sure." Shiro said sourly, "Me? Not so much." Amends had been made between him and Hunk and Pidge, but there was so much to be said by all of them. It would be awkward at best. He didn't even want to think about facing Lance. He sighed, pushing his tray aside. "They loathed me. They hated me for what I did to you. Even when they knew something was wrong, they didn't help. They just...let me flounder."

Keith shook his head, a sad smile twisting his lips. "Were you expecting something different?"

Shiro shrugged. "I expected a warmer reception at the least. A little more understanding from people who have become my family."

"Oh, Shiro....you expect too much."

Did he? That seemed a strange thing to say. Those were his friends, his family. If they did not treat him with love and respect, who would?

At the man's curious stare, Keith sighed. He had a long time to dwell on this. "You can't blame them for their inability to handle you. Or me. Yes, their behavior was a little more than cold, maybe even cruel at times, but they aren't doctors, Shiro. We are all still very much the children we were when we started this mission fifteen years ago."

"How do you mean?"

"Shiro, you're the only one who actually graduated. The rest of us were years from finishing. We enlisted in this war as children and our entire subsequent lives revolved around it. We didn't grow up and develop a greater sense of maturity that allowed us to care for and nurture others. We've been isolated on this ship. Sure, we learned to recognize and appreciate the 'other', but we're very much hands off. We don't deal in hands-on fixing."

"You make it sound like we're all incapable of helping one another."

"Did you receive training at the garrison that we didn't? I never received training on dealing with mental illness or personal trauma. In fact, we learned the exact opposite. We learned how to deal with trauma by subduing and locking up someone in hysteria. Makes sense when you're in space and a lone crazy can ruin an entire mission and get people killed. Doesn't translate so well to this life though."

"Keith--"

"All I'm saying is that we weren't ever taught how to be prepared to handle personal trauma. Try not to hold it against them. There isn't a one of us not on anti-depressants or who hasn't gone through some vicious downward spiral. We do the best we can for one another." He frowned at the man, apologetic. "Even if it's not enough."

It _wasn't_ enough, Shiro thought. They had failed one another. He supposed Keith had a valid point though. Their entire lives were fixed, focused solely on the mission. They were essentially child warriors. He needed not dwell on the implications of such a truth. They were all damaged, all needing or lacking in some way. Life was not fair or kind to any of them. It just felt like more often than not he received the raw end of the deal. 

He looked up at the sudden touch of a hand slipping into his own. Keith stared at him, head canted slightly, a tired smile on his lips. Shiro could not help but smile in return, tightening his grip around his mate's hand. That was enough.

=============

It was somewhere between the mess hall and the labs that the first wave of nausea struck. It was a familiar pain that Keith knew the symptoms of, like an annoying coworker that heralded his approach with a jubilant shout to disrupt before appearing. He cringed, feeling his stomach clench and roil, knowing that he had a few short, precious moments to get someplace safe. He glanced to Shiro, who was happily detailing the exploits of some mission he had been absent for, eyes glazed over as the man lost himself to the past. 

"Shiro..." He hated to interrupt, but the next cramp had him doubling over. Time was running out.

Immediately, his mate stop talking and laid a hand to his back. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

A syllable made it past Keith's lips before the first wave of vomit burned up his throat. He just managed to slam a hand over his mouth before breaking into a run for his room. Behind him, he could hear Shiro sputtering and crying his name before giving chase. 

Stupid of him not to have noticed something was amiss, Shiro chided himself as he sprinted into Keith's room and trailed him to the wash closet. As they had been walking from breakfast, the man had grown oddly quiet, a change from the warm, open behavior he had experienced all morning. Keith had been telling him for weeks how badly his body reacted to his medicines and yet he had watched his mate swallow his morning pills without any thought about it entering into his mind. 

As he knelt behind the man, gently grasping the tail of black hair and pulling it from Keith's face as he heaved, he crooned. "That's it baby, let it out."

He kept his encouragements to a minimum, knowing how tedious it could be to have someone happily cheering and coaching you through a miserable moment when all you wanted to do was get through it. He averted his eyes in an attempt to give the man some semblance of privacy, taking the time to run his thumb through the long tresses of hair spilling between his hands. Soft and silken, he thought, eyeing the length. There was maybe two feet of it, gleaming like black gold in his grip. 

The tail was jerked suddenly from his hands as Keith shifted, flushing the toilet and shoving himself against the wall.

"Better?" Shiro asked with a hopeful look.

The man grunted, running the back of a hand across his dry lips. "Need to lay down."

That sounded like a good idea and Shiro carefully lead the man back to the bed and arranged the blankets over him. There weren't nearly enough, he thought with a frown. Keith loved blankets. Years before, he had always been overheating due to the number of blankets his mate had kept on the bed. One thin blanket was not nearly enough. 

He rose to his feet, determined. "I'll go find another blanket for you."

He turned, prepared to raid every supply closet in the base, only to have his hand captured. 

Keith stared up at him with tired eyes. "It's fine; I'm warm enough. Stay?"

"Of course." He sat quickly, Keith's small hand tucked between his own. 

The entirety of their stay at the base had felt surreal to Shiro. He often found himself marveling at the course of his life. Could it even possibly be the same life where in years ago he had expected nothing more of his life than to be a pilot? Three excursions: that was the typical number of space expeditions permitted by the garrison. Kerberos was intended on being a two year mission, between the time needed to gather appropriate samples and then the travel to and from the planet. A third of his galactic career had been made...or so he thought. He could barely remember the boy he had been. 

Fate always seemed to enjoy playing games with him. Captured, tortured, believing himself to be lost to earth, and somehow he still ended up in his mate's arms. Every time. Thrown from the Black Lion, lost to voids, captured again, and always Keith was their to find him, to hold him in his arms and pledge his constant, undying love. If ever there was a pair of soulmates, destined to be with one another, surely they were it. 

Keith was his life. 

He smiled to himself, pressing soft kisses to the man's hand as his mind wandered through the years, back to the very beginning.

"What is it?" Keith asked tiredly, wriggling his fingers in the man's grip. 

Shiro could not help but laugh. "I was remembering the first time I cooked for you."

That memory brought forth conflicting emotions. Keith groaned. 

"Was it that bad? I suppose it was...I did have to take you to the infirmary."

"Yes," Keith drawled, unable to hide his grin, "and I stayed there for a full week, vomiting my guts out."

Testament of how bad his cooking skills truly were. "I remember how panicked you and I were, thinking that somehow we had been too careless." He smiled sadly, recalling the scare. 

But Keith laughed, holding the memories fondly in his heart. "If I was pregnant, we were both going to get kicked out. "

"No fraternization between officers and students." Shiro repeated the rule that had plagued their school lives.

"We fraternized."

"Often."

"That would have meant we'd both be rule breakers. And we couldn't have the _famous_ Takashi Shirogane breaking rules."

Shiro snorted; famous. He was the golden boy, the poster boy for success and achievements, that was certain, but he was only human. He had wants and needs. He was an alpha. Anyone who saw he and Keith together and didn't suspect them to be a couple was either blind or willfully ignorant. It was no secret among their classmates, but they restricted themselves from physical contact of any sort...in public at least. None of the instructors ever asked him about his relationship with Keith, but with a possible pregnancy, the pair of them had resorted to desperate measures.

"I remember our fallback plan." It had been terrible. 

So terrible, Keith could not help but break into a fit of laughter. "Ah, yes, my dear fake boyfriend Sven. Alas, I did not know him well."

"Well enough to get pregnant."

"I'm an omega; they would have just assumed I was a slut and moved on."

True enough, Shiro thought, lifting his mate's hand and kissing it once more. They had many misadventures at the garrison. So many times they could have been caught in compromising situations, their relationship revealed. How often had they snuck out or stolen away to a private corner to be alone? They had been playing with fire and, god, he had not cared then if he had gotten burned. His mate was the world and he would have done anything to have him and damn the consequences.

He kissed the hand again. "We had good fun back then. Even at the castle."

Keith hummed, a happy note. "I miss it. I'm glad we'll be returning soon."

Shiro could not say he felt the same sense of elation, but he was happy that Keith was happy. Keith needed to be with his family. It would be the best way to fully heal. Already, he had formulated some plans to aid in the mending of the broken paladin bonds. More than ever they needed to act as a team. They could no longer tolerate indifference and hands-off interactions. Keith's insight that morning had opened his eyes to a good deal of problems he had grievously overlooked. They all suffered from it.

There was time until he would reveal his plans. For the moment, he was content pressing kisses to Keith's hands and forehead, murmuring together sweet stories of the past. The light was coming back to the man's eyes, his smile growing, cheeks coloring. It was a beautiful transformation and Shiro drank it in greedily.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homecoming
> 
> Or
> 
> 'Get a room...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you guys are enjoying the sheith as much as I am, because the drama will start up again soon enough!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is leaving me those awesome comments! I love reading them! They make me thrive! You're all so sweet and I hope everyone is enjoying the story! keep   
> 'em coming!

A red blip appeared on the radar, accompanied by a cheerful bleep. Pidge looked up, fingers poised over the keyboard as she paused in her scan for foreign vessels.

"Ah!" a happy exclamation left her. "They're here! ETA thirty minutes!"

She found herself crowded suddenly, Hunk and Lance's faces pressed tightly against her cheeks as they peered at the radar. Both Allura and Coran moved in as well, leaning over her chair heavily to gain a look even as Hunk and Lance elbowed one another, jockeying for the best position. 

"Let me see!"

"Where are they?! That took forever!"

With a short growl, she pushed the two men away, tapping wildly at the keyboard until a screen appeared, displaying the approaching ship. It was larger than expected, but clearly marked with their ally insignia. Another tap and she opened a line of communication. Two unfamiliar galra faces peered back at her.

Pidge hesitated a moment. "Keith? Shiro?"

"Here!" Shiro's cheerful voice called a moment before his face peaked out from behind one of the pilot's seats. "We're in back, resting."

Lance crowded the screen. "Keith?"

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping?!" the paladin exclaimed. "You guys are two weeks late! He had all that time to sleep!"

Shiro hummed, smile tight. "We'll, uh, get into that when we get there. We had a good reason for the delay."

Several wary looks passed between the others as they considered what those cryptic words could mean. With two unknown aliens so close, they dared not ask yet. There would be time for catching up and explanations. Their teammates were close.

"Well," Pidge smiled, "get here safely and you can tell us all about it."

Shiro nodded at her. "Will do. See you in a bit."

The communication line cut. A beat of silence passed as they processed what they had heard.

"You think Keith is still sick?" Hunk asked, thinking of the last time he had seen the man. He doubted Keith could be any weaker than he had been at that point, but he was wary of finding out the truth for himself.

Pidge pulled at the end of her ponytail thoughtfully. "Well, if he and Shiro are sitting side by side in a pod and he's sleeping, he can't be _that_ sick. Or at least I hope not. I doubt Kolivan would let them leave the base if there were still issues."

"That's right." Allura chimed, placing a hand reassuringly on her shoulder before eyeing the others. "Kolivan and the Blade of Marmora are nothing if not overly cautious. They did us a great favor, taking in Keith and Shiro. It is a debt I doubt we will be able to repay, so we must be grateful. We must take care to look after our friends. So...why don't we begin by making sure the castle is properly prepared for them?"

"I'll go set out their clothes." Lance volunteered, dashing for the door.

Hunk grinned. "I'll start dinner. They're probably famished."

"I am too." Pidge laughed. "And while you guys do that, I'll prepare the labs for the doctors that are with them."

Allura watched as the team dispersed, cheerful smiles on their faces as they bent to the tasks ahead of them. They were a happy lot. It had been some time since she could recall them all being upbeat. A dark cloud of melancholy and resentment had hung over them for a long while. It seemed that the air was finally clearing. 

Heaving a sigh of relief, she turned to Coran, smiling pleasantly. "He'll be back soon."

The man smiled back, although he appeared worried. "I hope they are as well as we wish them to be."

"We shall find out soon enough. I am confident in their strength."

"There aren't two stronger soldiers in the universe." Coran nodded, watching the radar as the ship drew closer to the castle. 

A great deal rode on the backs of the returning paladins. It was unfair to ask more of them, to expect anything after the ordeal they had gone through, but it was a sad truth of their political position. The universe still needed Voltron. There was no Voltron without Shiro or Keith. However briefly though, they would focus first on their friends.

==========

The Blade doctors were maintaining distance, though their eyes lingered on every move Shiro made. It was to be expected, he told himself, wrapping an arm around Keith's waist and supporting his weight. He did not think Keith was fully awake yet, eyes still half-lidded and heavy. That was a side effect of the drugs, Shiro had noted after several days of carefully observing his mate. Keith slept hard, which was good, but rousing him was a chore. 

"Come on, baby," he whispered into the man's hair, "everyone is waiting for us."

The man groaned, trudging along after him. Across the hangar, the paladins and crew waited, all wide eyes and smiles. A true homecoming. Shiro felt a smile form on his own face. They were finally home, with their family. They were finally moving in the right direction. 

They had not made it to a full stop when their friends launched towards them. Pidge practically ripped Keith out of his arms, snuggling her face into his chest and crying out loudly. Shiro had his own arms full with Hunk, demanding to know what they had been eating, had they had enough, did they need a meal now. A hundred questions bombarded him until he was dizzy and could do little more than laugh the concern away. 

Wave after wave of embraces took place (though Shiro noted Lance carefully avoided him) until they were left quietly waiting for Coran to release Keith from his arms. It took longer than expected, as neither seemed inclined to let go, but when Keith's legs began shaking, knees threatening to give out, he pushed away.

"I need to lay down." 

Lance snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "Lay down? You slept on the way here!"

"Yes, in a cramped, uncomfortable ship. Now I need to rest in an actual bed."

If Keith saw the exchange of nervous glances, he did not make mention of it. They could get into it later, Shiro decided, stepping forward and putting his arm around the man's waist once more. 

"I'm going to take him back to our room. It's been an eventful few days. We'll catch up tonight?"

"Of course." Allura minded to keep the disappointment from her voice. "Rest is key. We'll see you both at supper."

"I'm making a feast!" Hunk added proudly.

Shiro smiled. "Can't wait."

Keith's body sagged against him tiredly as they walked, painfully slow, one foot in front of the other. It reminded Shiro of years ago, when they had shared their first heat together, back at the garrison. He had been astounded to learn that Keith had made it so long without proper pills to combat the symptoms of his heat. Every cycle was like torture and at the end of it all, the boy was crippled with exhaustion. Thankfully, the pills were easily procurable at the infirmary, with the correct amount of money, of course. He had lost track of how much money he had given Keith to buy those pills, but it had been worth it. Keith was dead on his feet with the side effects of his heat. It was unacceptable at the garrison. The man had never gone without again--until he stopped having heats. 

"You doing okay?" he asked, hand pressed snugly to the small of Keith's back.

His mate hummed, a tired sound. "Really want to lay down and take a nap."

"We're almost there. Were you feeling alright on the way here?"

"I'm not sick, Shiro." He glanced at the man, smiling. "You know that."

Shiro returned the smile. "I know. It's been awhile since I've helped you through the aftershock of your heat."

"You had better get used to it; I imagine it will happen regularly now."

He dared not say it aloud, but Shiro hoped that were true. The return of Keith's heat meant a dozen of good things for them. He tried not to dwell on the thought that sometime--soon, he prayed--they might be able to share a heat again. 

Finally, after what seemed like half an hour of painstaking steps, they made it to the paladin quarters. They paused outside the door to their room and looked at one another. There was guilt in Keith's eyes once more. Even as he pressed close, he dropped his gaze. 

"...You know I'm happy to be with you again."

Shiro foresaw where this was heading, but he waited patiently. "I do."

"I don't want to mess this up." Keith swallowed heavily. "I'm not ready yet--I don't think I can--"

"Keith. It's fine." Shiro leaned forward and kissed the man's forehead. "I don't want to mess this up either. You have to take care of yourself first. When you're ready, I know you'll let me know. And until then, I'll just be down the hall."

He tried to step back, to give the man his space and show that he was sincere in his regard, but Keith grabbed hold of his shoulders and refused to let go. For a long, tense moment they stared at one another, waiting for the other to move or speak. Just as he was opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, Keith leaned forward and sealed his lips over Shiro's own. 

Without hesitation, he slid his arms around his mate's slim body and kissed back, minding he keep his passion to a minimum. The taste of Keith's tongue in his mouth was maddening, but short lived. He wanted nothing more than to pull Keith flush against him, to kiss and rut against the man, but he felt the scrape of nails against his chest, gently but insistently pushing him away. With a heavy exhalation, Keith stepped back, offering a shy smile.

"I'll see you later."

Shiro nodded, face flushed. "Rest well, sweet heart."

They kissed again, soft and chaste, before Keith slipped into his room. For a moment, Shiro stood outside the door, waiting, though he was not sure what for. A feeling, he supposed, rubbing distractedly at the back of his neck. He needed to be sure it felt right, leaving his mate on his own again. That room held some dark memories; he had to make sure those memories did not linger to haunt Keith. A minute passed and he assumed all was well. He heard no cries and smelled nothing foul. 

He took two steps in the direction of his own small quarters before the door swished open again.

"Keith?" he turned, worried.

His mate looked at him, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He was furious. "They took my clothes and blankets."

"They...what?"

"All my clothes." Keith snapped in annoyance. "Gone. You should check on yours too."

Shiro blinked, surprised at the idea Keith posited. Why would they... _No, don't think. Just go._ He needed only a quick, cursory look about his room to see that his personal items had similarly disappeared. No sheets, no blankets, and the drawers to the dresser hung open, as if the culprit had been in a rush.

"Well...that's inconvenient."

Keith growled in the doorway, fatigue making him factitious. "I cannot believe--"

"It's fine." Shiro tried to sooth, stepping close and rubbing the man's shoulders. "I'll go find you some blankets and find out what they did with our clothes. Just go and lay down."

It was a kind offer. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not. You need to get off your feet."

He felt guilty accepting the offer, but Keith felt his body protesting all of his activity. "Thank you." He paused. "I don't deserve you."

Shiro smiled, leaning forward and kissing the man's forehead. "Yes, you do. We deserve each other. Go on now, get to bed. I'll be back in a few minutes. Promise."

One more kiss and he was gone, in search of blankets. It would only take a few minutes, Keith told himself as he returned to his room and curled up on the bare mattress. The room was warm at least; whoever had stolen his clothing had made sure to turn on the heating system. How thoughtful. When he figured out what was passing through their teammate's heads, maybe he would feel grateful. At the moment, he was exhausted and agitated.

By some miracle, he dozed, sinking into the firm yet yielding mattress and drifting in comfort, only to be roused by the feel of something soft yet heavy falling on his legs. Jolting upright and blinking rapidly, his eyes cleared to find...

"Lance?"

The man grinned widely at him, sweeping his arms proudly in indication of the pile of blankets and sheets he had unceremoniously deposited on top of his friend. "Ta-da! I give you blankets."

Keith glanced at them. "Fitting, seeing as you were likely the one that took them to begin with. Was it you? What did you do with them? And all my clothes?"

"Man, I haven't seen you in like three months and the first thing you do is accuse me of stealing your shit?" Keith stared at him blandly. "Alright, fine, yes, it was me."

"As I thought." He shifted, sitting cross-legged with the blankets covering his legs. "We're happy to be back, but I'd be happier with my clothes--I would really like to change out of these. I've been wearing them for two months. Where are my old ones?"

Lance's eyes darted away, a sheepish expression lifting his face. "Yeah, about that...we destroyed all of your clothes and blankets."

Keith stared at him for a long moment. "You... _what_?"

"Don't get mad!" He threw his hands up in defense, lest Keith grew aggressive. "We tried washing everything to get all the weird smells out, but Pidge said that Shiro's stuff still stank like alpha and yours just smelled weird. So...we decided as a group that it would be better to just destroy all your old, ruined stuff and get you new ones."

Which explained the pile of foreign clothes folded neatly on top of his dresser. Keith had looked at the rainbow assortment of shirts and pants in distaste upon noticing them. There was a message there, he suspected. Stop wearing black; you aren't mourning anymore. 

"I suppose we've entered a new stage of life. May as well mark the occasion with a new wardrobe. You got Shiro new clothes too, I hope?"

Lance scoffed. "Well, duh. I know you wouldn't mind if he were to walk around the castle naked, but the rest of us would."

Keith made no comment on that. He stared at the pile of blankets, considering if he had the energy to make the bed. After a short amount of deliberation, he decided against it. He could sleep just as well in a mass of crumpled blankets, so long as he had a pillow and a warm cover. Once he was fully recovered from his heat, he would get around to making the bed properly. While he arranged the blankets to his liking, Lance circled around to the dresser, opening the lowermost drawer and pulling a pile of clothes from within. 

"These are for Shiro." he said.

Keith nodded. "You should bring them to his room then. He'll want to change too."

Now there was a curious statement and one that gave Lance considerable worry. "What do you mean bring them to Shiro's room. _This_ is Shiro's room....isn't it?"

"It will be." Keith mumbled, eyes fixed on his hands. "But for now he's still in the other room."

"What the hell, Keith! I thought the whole point of you taking Shiro to the base with you was so that you two could get better and--I don't know--be together! What happened?!"

Was that what they thought happened? Much as Keith wished his absconding with Shiro had been nothing more than fixing a strained mating bond, that was merely a side effect of the true reason for dragging Shiro to the base. Their mating bond was, in essence, inconsequential to the real matter at hand. Shiro had been ill and in dire need of help. He did not want that to be undermined by the notion that they had merely been away on a couple's retreat. 

"Lance." he began firmly. "Shiro and I went to the Marmoran base to be healed, not to be together. Shiro was going insane. He was sick. You know that."

"Yeah..."

"Helping Shiro is all that mattered. He and I coming together again was--a happy consequence of his getting treatment. You understand that, don't you? You saw how ill he was. He was losing himself."

No question of that, Lance thought, remembering the fateful events of the bar and the breakdown Keith had afterwards. He had looked into Shiro's eyes that night and seen--emptiness. It had frightened him. There were times, before Keith had come to fetch the man to the base, where he could see that same blankness lingering in Shiro's eyes. If the man had attacked his own mate in such a state, who could say what he would have done to the rest of the team, had he lost his mind? Lance had been afraid to find out.

"You need to apologize to him."

Lance blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me. Apologize to him. You've treated him like garbage. I'm the worst offender, I know, but I've made my amends as best I can. It's time for you to as well."

He knew he had to, but Lance felt obstinate. They all owed Shiro an apology, but Shiro owed them an explanation. "Once he tells us what the hell happened to him, or at least what was going on that made him act like that, I'll be the first to get down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness."

That was likely as good as he was going to get, Keith realized. "Fair enough, I suppose."

He pulled a blanket over himself, intent on getting some rest before dinner, when Lance cleared his throat. 

"Yes?"

"So...why did it take you so long to get back? Were you...hurt?"

"No..." Keith felt his face flush in embarrassment. "I...went into heat unexpectedly and had to be confined."

"Confined?" Lance echoed, lips quirking into a grin. "Man, Shiro must have been happy."

"Why would he be happy?"

"Because---you know why he was happy. It was the first time either of you has gotten laid in _years_."

Oh. Oh no. Best to squash that ill-conceived notion before it grew out of control. "Lance, Shiro was in a separate room. He was not allowed near me while I was in heat. If anything, he was miserable, knowing that I was in heat and not being allowed in."

Lance blinked several times, playing and replaying the man's words in his head. Heat. Separate room. Miserable. "I'm sorry, the first thing you said does not go with the second thing. What do you mean you were in heat and Shiro wasn't allowed in?"

"I mean exactly what I said. I wasn't ready to have my alpha climbing on top of me, lost to a hurricane of hormones after the hell we just crawled through to get back together. I still don't trust myself." Heats were complicated and, if and when they made love again, they both needed to have their heads straight. 

"Okay," Lance appeared flustered, "so you two weren't heat fucking and taking a few days to recover from it. What the hell took you two weeks then?"

"I told you, I was in heat."

"For two weeks?"

"Yes!"

That...was amazing. Lance recalled his friend going into heat and the longest he had ever noted was six days. That was standard length, he had learned from Coran. Two to seven days was normal and healthy. The longer the heat though, the worse Keith was afterwards. The man was exhausted after four days; no wonder Keith had needed help getting to his room earlier. Twelve days of heat? It was inconceivable!

"Damn, man. I bet Shiro was _really_ disappointed he couldn't be in that room with you."

Keith couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I bet he was. But apparently there will be other heats. He and I can make up the time."

They stared at one another in silence for a moment. 

"I'm glad you're back, man. Both of you." Lance murmured. "I'll let you get some rest. You look like shit."

"Thank you, tool box." Keith flopped onto his back, almost immediately sinking into sleep. Before he could completely submerge though, he had a thought. "Hey."

Lance turned in the door, about to step into the hallway. "Yeah?"

"How is bug-girl? You're still with her, right?"

Lance grinned. "Two years strong."

"Good for you."

"G'night, man."

As soon as the door closed, Keith was gone. All of his senses plunged into deep, delicious numbness. He did not rouse when Shiro returned, arms full with more blankets. The man chuckled softly, carefully unfurling and laying the blankets over his mate before pressing a kiss to Keith's unruly hair and slipping out of the room. 

=============

Something was very...right. And it was easy to tell what it was. Hunk had looked up from placing an appetizer on the table when the last members of the team trickled in. They all smiled as Shiro greeted them in his usual warm manner, arm snug around Keith's waist. Keith was as quiet as ever, murmuring his own greeting before sinking into a chair and turning his attention to the food. 

Hunk immediately veered his way, heaping a pile of salty meat on his plate. "Here! A new hors doeuvre I invented! Tell me what you think! And don't be shy!"

"That's too much food, Hunk."

"You need it." Lance called across the table. "You're a twig."

Keith could not deny that he had lost a considerable amount of weight while at the Marmoran base. He chalked it up to the sheer amount of vomiting he had done; surely he had puked up a third of his body fat. Inactivity had taken its toll on his body as well, but he tried not to be concerned about it. Soon enough, he would be back to his old training habits. If he worked slowly and diligently, he thought he might be able to get back where he had been.

Shiro took his hand suddenly and kissed it, misreading his silence as embarrassment. He smiled back regardless, feeling a swelling of happiness in his chest at the display. 

"Mush alert." Pidge joked, smelling the pleasantly happy pheromones rolling off of their teammates. She had not realized how effected she had been by their prior aggression; she felt unusually calm in their presence now. It was a welcome change from constantly being on edge, worrying whether an exchange between the pair would end in an argument or uncomfortable silence. 

A similar sense of calm had settled on the others, Pidge noted. There was a thread of tension still as they watched the couple, awed by the drastic change and waiting for any sign that it was merely a surface display. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lance frown and fidget a number of times. Likely uncomfortable with his prior behavior, she surmised. He had dug his own grave. For the most part though, they were a happy lot once more, laughing and smiling. Conversation was subdued, but it was jovial. 

As Hunk danced around the table, depositing dinner plates and proudly explaining each dish, Coran watched the paladins carefully. A seed of distrust remained, buried deep. They would need to root it out quickly, though he suspected that that would not be an overly difficult task. Already many of them had fallen into comfortable companionship. Amazing. 

He watched Shiro lean over and place a kiss on his mate's forehead. The affection was received happily and Keith turned the most adoring expression to the man. A happy couple, Coran thought. 

"Well," he stood, taking his glass and raising it high, "I think a toast is in order."

The others moved quickly to follow his example, glasses held aloft. 

Coran cleared his throat. "This has been a long time coming. We've struggled, we've fallen in combat," he fixed his eyes on Shiro sadly, "we've lost allies and friends, but we remain strong. Not everyone can be a paladin. A paladin is chosen for their strength of will and their fighting spirit. I can think of no two paladins with greater fighting spirit than you."

Keith keened softly as Shiro took his hand once more.

"And so," Coran continued, "we raise our glasses today to you. Our lost friends, returned to us once more, stronger than ever. I know that your strength will flow into the rest of the team and together the paladins of Voltron will be stronger than they ever were. But more importantly...we're happy to have you back with us."

A murmur of agreement rose and they clinked glasses together, drinking to happiness and comradery. A few sips was enough for Keith, who had yet to develop a taste for the equivalent of space moonshine that Coran was so fond of. The others wore similarly sour expressions as they choked down gulps of the alcohol. He reached for the jog of water as Shiro stood.

"We're happy to be back," the man began with a gentle smile on his face, "and I want us all to take a moment to enjoy this evening...but our work is far from done. Voltron has had to take a step back in the previous months due to Keith's and my disappearance. Our enemies saw this and took advantage of it. We have a lot of ground to recover and we're going to have to move quickly."

"Damn," Lance murmured, placing his drink on the table with an audible thunk. "Way to kill the mood, man."

Shiro's smile thinned. "I'm sorry, but its a sad truth of our position. We don't have the luxury of celebrating our victory--not yet at any rate. Time is of the essence. As soon as we're all in fit condition, we need to get back into the battlefield and make our presence known."

As soon as they were all fit...Keith supposed that was a subtle indication of his own weakness, although he had noted Shiro growing similarly fatigued from time to time. He prodded his dinner with his fork, having heard briefly of his mate's plans to bring them together once more as a team. 

"You have some thoughts on what we ought to be doing until we're battle ready?" he asked helpfully.

The man smiled appreciatively. "I do." He swept his gaze over the rest of the team. "We know that the only way we can hope to defeat the empire is as a team. Without the team, there is no Voltron, and without Voltron there is no rebellion. Unfortunately, our teamwork has been failing as of late. A lot of that is my own fault...but we can't sit by and ignore our problems any longer. So, before we go charging into battle, we have to relearn how to work as a team once more."

"Team building exercises?" Hunk asked, to which Shiro nodded.

Lance chortled. "Are we going to make a lion pyramid again? Because that shit was hilarious."

Shiro couldn't help but laugh a little as well. "We'll see about the pyramid. I'll work with Coran to outline a full itinerary of exercises, but first we're going to start with the simplest exercise: we're all going to sit down and have a talk."

The announcement was met with several dubious looks. 

"Kumbaya?" Lance asked. 

"There is a great deal we need to discuss." Shiro said defensively. 

An argument could have broken out then. It was an anticlimactic beginning to what was to be Voltron's triumphant return to the battle. Sides were being taken already; Coran could see it in the subtle twitches of each paladin. That would not do. Not now, so soon after Shiro and Keith's return. Clearing his throat, he stood as well.

"Shiro has the right idea; in fact, I was going to suggest something of the sort myself. A deep, intensive group discussion is just what we need. We've had a lot of secrets and misunderstandings of late. That is not the paladin way."

Keith felt his lips twitch. Whether Coran meant it as a personal jab or not--he highly doubted not--he felt humiliated. Of all of them gathered around the table, he was the one with the most secrets, who had caused the most misunderstandings and arguments. Intentional or not, he had caused the rift in the team. He had to make that right. The solution had presented itself; he had to come clean. It would not be an easy conversation. Even recovering, he wished to keep certain truths to himself. That did not seem to be an option though. He would consult with his mate and garner his opinion, but ultimately he had to do what was best for the team. Perhaps it would not be as dire as he thought; the support of the team might be exactly what he needed.

Reaching out, he grabbed a fistful of Shiro's shirt and tugged him back into his seat. The man looked at him in surprise.

"Back to work it is," he sighed, "but until then, let's enjoy dinner. I'm starving."

"Agreed!" Hunk yelled, jumping to his feet and running to grab more plates from the kitchen.

The serious aura that had fallen over the table bled away, slowly but surely, until all that remained was joy. There were smiles and laughter again. Many of them felt that it was as like the old days again, dining as a family, recounting their exploits in tales of humor and exaggerated bravado. When they all parted, bellies full and ready to sleep, it was as friends. Even the lingering tension between certain parties was subdued, almost forgotten as they walked together, a team once more, towards their rooms. 

Shiro could feel eyes on his back as he held tightly onto his mate's hand, occasionally rubbing his thumb across the man's knuckles. He did his best to ignore the stares as they paused in front of Keith's door, wrapping their arms around one another and kissing lazily. There was a catcall, which they both tactfully ignored. Keith took a step back, but Shiro could not help peppering several last kisses on his mate's forehead before he slipped away into his nest. 

"Goodnight, baby. Sleep well."

Keith sucked in a deep breath, eyes fluttering at the heavy smell of his mate. His mate...he was fortunate he could still call Shiro that. "Good night, alpha."

One more kiss, they decided, before prying their hands from one another and going their separate ways. Throwing himself into bed, which had thankfully been remade, Shiro thought that the situation could be little better. Their reception was as warm as could be hoped for. The only thing that would have made homecoming perfect would be to have Keith in his bed again. But it was not yet time for that. Soon, but not yet. He found that he was strangely content with that. Perhaps it was the latent smell of Keith's heat, lingering on his mate's skin that had transferred to his clothing that made him so docile. Whatever the case, he was not only content with the status of his relationship, he was...excited.


	21. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time had come to move forward. Keith put his best effort into the process, but sometimes going forward is not as easy a task as it seems. Sometimes, there aren't easy fixes. This was certainly one of those cases.

Conversation was never easy for Keith. As the days of his youth had passed, he had learned quickly that silence was the best option, the safest option to keep himself from trouble. Keep his head down and his mouth shut. As he grew, he drew away from the spoken word, choosing instead to listen. There were times he had been mute for days. He had been content living in his self-imposed silence.

As part of a team, communication was key, but often his family was dragging words from him. He spoke only when spoken to, sometimes to offer a sharp jab at Lance when the boy was particularly annoying, occasionally to offer his opinion. People typically didn't like his opinions. He was frigid, especially for an omega. That made him immediately unlikable to many. 

Conversation that day was going to be difficult, he knew. Not just for himself, but for all of the paladins. They had gathered after breakfast in their common room, sitting on the plush couches, lengths away from one another. Their eyes were cold and guarded, mouths frozen into taut lines. Keith glanced out of the corner of his eyes to Ryvaina and Knair, standing stoically in a corner, overseeing the proceedings. They haunted his steps now. It was maddening, but they rarely interrupted day to day activity. Today might be a different case, he worried. If they ever got around to speaking. The silence stretching between the team was painful, heavy, and formidable. No one knew where to begin, that much was clear. 

_Time to be a leader..._

"I'll start." Keith grumbled, arms crossed over his chest like a shield. His brows here scrunched together thoughtfully, eyes glued to the floor as he skillfully avoided looking any of his teammates in the eyes. "Most of this is my fault anyways."

"Keith, none of this was your fault." Shiro said, gently but firmly. He needed to push that destructive thinking out of the man's head.

Keith shook his head in response. "It may not have been my fault, but everything that happened to us--to the team--is because of what---" he stumbled momentarily, having to pause and swallow thickly, "--because of what happened to me."

Across from them, Shiro noted that Allura and Coran shared a concerned look. They knew what Keith alluded to--the rest of the team however stared on, confused and anxious. By that point, they had to have guessed that something had been horribly amiss in Keith's life, but they would likely never guess how devastating it had been. This was going to ruin them all. Taking a breath, Shiro reached over and took his mate's hand, carefully unfolding Keith's arms. 

Even with his mate's reassuring touch, Keith could not look the others in the eyes.The humiliation still sat at the surface of his mind, stinging him daily when he would flinched at a sharp sound or cowered at the thought of rutting with his own mate. He had been utterly ruined. Any hundreds of things could set him off. 

He sighed, biting his lips as the words formed on his tongue. "You know that Lotor forced a mating mark on me--you were there for that. You were able to draw conclusions of what that-- _bond_ meant." He paused, gathering courage, squeezing Shiro's hand tightly. "Two years ago Lotor raped me."

There was no moment of stunned silence. There was no hush or fall of quiet. All at once, the paladins erupted into noise, some making demands, others exclaiming in alarm. 

" _What_?" Lance screeched, jumping to his feet. 

Keith shrank away from the shrieking, curling into Shiro's arm when the man reached over to offer his support.

This was not going well, Shiro thought, feeling the subtle waves of trembling from the body in his arms. He had warned the team to keep their emotions in check as best they could before they began this discussion, knowing how damning it would be. It was difficult news to swallow; he couldn't blame them. If Keith had dropped this bombshell on him out of nowhere, he would have gone ballistic, possibly losing himself for good to the alpha. He had picked up the signs much sooner though, seen what the others could not. It was easier to see, as Keith's mate, but that did not make the truth any easier to stomach.

"Guys!" he barked.

The room grew quiet at his threatening growl. Lance flew forward suddenly and Keith drew back into the cushions of the sofa, flinching.

"Oh my god...Are you okay?! Why didn't you tell us?" Lance pleaded to know, falling to his knees in front of his friend. "We would have helped you! We would have protect you!"

It took a moment for the tremor of fear to leave Keith's body, but he saw quickly enough that Lance intended no harm, that his ferocious expression was regret and remorse, not disgust.

"I-I don't know..."

"Keith..." Lance looked devastated to realize that his closest friend had been so damaged and he had not known. "I--I'm sorry."

The tension had not yet bled from Keith' body when Pidge got to her feet, slowly and silently walking over. He looked at her warily as she bent, one knee on the sofa, and embraced him. There were no words in the world to convey her regret, but Pidge knew she did not need them. Her scent grew sweet and calming as she nosed into her friend's neck. She had intended on pulling back, letting him smell her protectiveness and love before stepping back so as not to overwhelm him with the scent of an alpha, but Keith wrapped his arms loosely around her waist and anchored her. 

Shiro watched silently, fighting the urge to pull his mate into his arms and keep the others at bay, to prevent them from unintentionally harming his mate more. They were pack, he reminded himself. They were family. Family was exactly what Keith needed at the moment. He heard Pidge's gentle rumblings of comfort and Keith's responding weak keens. Lance was still on the floor, hand pressed to Keith's knee and Pidge's back reassuringly. One by one, they came over and offered their support through touch and soft words. Coran held on the longest, perhaps because by that point Keith had broken down to tears. 

They backed away as Keith's body heaved with sobs, allowing Shiro room to gather his mate into his arms, but they remained close. He apologized again and again, even as Shiro wrapped him in a tight embrace. Sorry, he whimpered, so sorry for everything he had put them through. Expressions of guilt had settled on many faces as they listened to the broken apologies of their teammate. Their once-leader. 

"No one here is to blame." Shiro said softly, stroking a hand through Keith's hair. "Lotor attacked because---well, there's no reason. He's a monster who follows his own will. And I have every intention of making him pay."

"I'm gonna shoot his fucking brains out." Lance growled, patting Keith's knee.

Shiro rather liked the sound of that plan. "We'll start forming a plan on how to track and corner Lotor. For now...it's my turn to share." He sighed, taking a moment to focus on his mate. Keith was pulling himself together, tears drying and muffling his sniffling. He was not moving away though which pleased Shiro, as his instincts demanded that he hold tight and never let go. 

"Where to start with this...there's a lot of backstory to--Ugh."

Shiro found he did not know where to begin. He could not even find the words to explain what he was explaining. He would not share everything with them--not yet at any rate. That was a story for Keith's ears first. Before he shared with the rest of the team, he needed to face those demons on his own. 

"I-I don't know how to begin."

"Try from the start." Pidge offered, sitting at his feet. 

The start was still raw in his memory, but he found that there was another jumping off point. "When I came back to the ship--"

"What about before that?" Hunk interrupted. They were all curious about that three year interlude.

"I'll tell you about that another day. Right now we're focusing on---well, why I was lashing out."

"You were going insane." Keith supplied, voice choked and cracked. 

There was so much to go over. Shiro felt as if he spoke for an hour, explaining the feral serum and how it effected him. As soon as he said the word 'feral', it was as if a lightbulb had gone off in all their heads. A soft 'ooooh' escaped Pidge before she clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. The more he spoke, the more the events of the past made sense in their collective minds. It was an exhausting story, having to express in great detail the turmoil of his own mind, how it effected Keith and subsequently drew him into madness, and how it came to be that they were healed, sitting side by side, curled against one another.

At the mention of the Marmoran base, the others turned to the Blades, standing silently in the corner, seeking their confirmation. Ryvaina offered little, other than a short nod of her head and curt yes or no to any questions. 

"So, Prince Lotor has developed a new bioweapon." Allura mused aloud. And he had tested it on the paladins to great success. "This is most troubling news."

Shiro nodded absently. He had not had much time to dwell on the implications of such a drug existing while he battled with it head to head. "We should have Kolivan send us a report as soon as he can. We need to know if this serum is out in the universe yet or still in testing. If it's already in use, we need to be extremely cautious."

Hunk asked a question--something about how they were combating the serum---but Shiro turned away, focusing instead on Keith, who had slumped suddenly in his arms. The man's head rolled back against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering. The entire team flung forward, crying out in alarm.

"Did he faint?" Hunk asked worriedly.

Shiro drew his mate to his chest. "No, no I don't think so. I think...he fell asleep. His medication does weird things to him."

"Which explains why he almost fell asleep in his oatmeal this morning." Pidge mumbled.

He would not say so out loud--not yet at any rate--but Shiro was beginning to have serious concerns about Keith's stamina. He had never been a fan of his mate's tendency towards insomnia, often staying awake for days on end before crashing. That was far from the case now. More often than not, he would now find Keith curled up on some soft surface, sleeping like the dead. It seemed the man could not be awake for more than a few hours before he had to retreat back to his bed. 

"Baby?" he crooned, pressing his hand to Keith's cheek. "Keith? Can you hear me?"

A deep puff of breath came from the man's parted lips a moment before his lids fluttered again, slowly peeling open. "Shiro?"

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Hey, baby."

Keith groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position. "Why are you all staring at me?"

"Dude," Lance laughed awkwardly, "you passed out."

"No, I didn't."

"You did. Right in Shiro's arms. You looked like a dead fish."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, but you do look a little...tired." That was the most delicate way Shiro could put it. Calling his mate the walking dead was liable to get him banned from the man's presence for a time. Keith was always prickly after his heat. Of course, he realized with a sudden wash of relief, that was likely why Keith was so exhausted. 

"Why don't you go back to bed, Keith? You pushed yourself enough for one day."

Keith raised a brow, skeptical. "I ate breakfast and talked for an hour. That's hardly pushing myself."

"Dude," Lance clicked his tongue, "you put yourself through the emotional wringer. Take it easy for a change."

At Keith's obstinate glare, Shiro took his hand and nuzzled his wrist. "You should go back to bed. The rest of us can finish up here--"

"This was supposed to be a _group_ exercise." Keith protested.

"--and if there's more to be said, we can say it another day. We can't expect to air out every skeleton in the closets in one morning. This is just a first step. You don't need to be here for the next part; I'm going to give them hell for treating me like garbage when I got back."

Oh, but Keith wanted to be there, Shiro could see it in his mate's eyes. A wave of nervous laughter passed through the others; they had known the time was coming when they would need to stand and account for their poor treatment of their errant leader. Most of them were prepared and had already offered ample apologies. Lance, many noted, was fidgeting unhappily. 

"Please." Shiro tried pleading. "We'll be done here soon enough and then we'll all be resting up."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Of course not, I'm just worried about--"

"I'm _fine_ , Shiro."

He was losing. His little omega was not taking no for an answer and Shiro had no intention of forcing his will upon the man. Thankfully, Ryvaina had stepped forward, drawing their attention with a soft, yet forceful hum.

"It is time to rest." she said, voice even and calm.

And so it was. None of them were willing to stand against the opposition of a medical professional. Not even Keith. He glared sourly at the woman before getting to his feet with a huff. His discontent was well noted and they all made an effort to reassure him that they would see him soon, that they were almost done, he would not miss anything. Their words did little to alleviate Keith's irritation. Good intentions or not, it still felt as if he were being banished. 

The air felt somewhat heavier with Keith gone. There were a great number of questions still about Lotor and all that had transpired at the Marmoran base, Shiro knew, but he was beginning to feel a tad emotionally fatigued himself. To say nothing of the fact that he refused to speak on Keith's behalf in regards to the prince and his deeds. If Keith wished to share more, that was his decision to make.

"Well," he forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood, "who wants to apologize first?"

Perhaps that was a bit too passive aggressive, he worried as the others merely stared at him. Perhaps it was time to end the meeting; he didn't have the energy to properly and eloquently chastise his teammates for their dire lack of communication. To say nothing of how they had chosen sides--that was dangerous behavior for a team and he had a few choice memories of times before when the team had been split on decisions and had failed missions because of it. 

Another day then. He would rather be standing vigil over Keith while he slept than receiving the side-eye from his teammates. They all had to be ready to move on, after all. Just as he shifted forward to stand, Pidge growled playfully and threw herself forward, tackling him with arms around the waist.

"We missed you!" she declared, burrowing into his chest.

Shiro floundered, having lost his balance as he was forced back into the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, returning her affectionate growl. 

"I missed you too." he whispered, thinking of the lonely days of his imprisonment and how he had grown so desperate for human interaction, he had even started cozying up to the guards. All he was ever rewarded with was an insult or a sharp strike to put him back in his place, but even that had been satisfying in it's own twisted way. At least he had not been alone.

Pidge pulled away, staring at him fondly a moment before a wicked grin turned her lips. 

The expression made Shiro tense. "Pidge?"

"Dog pile!"

He burst into laughter as the team lunged forward, throwing themselves into his arms. Even Lance crowded in on him, reaching out to ruffle his forelock--not without a comment about how much new white he had sprouting from his scalp. 

"I'm old." he laughed, trying to force them away, only to have Hunk pin him down in a bear hug. 

It was a fruitless endeavor, attempting to free himself. Very quickly, he gave in, accepting the warmth of their affection and embraces. The worst part of the river had been crossed. The bridge was still rickety and they were likely to stumble from time to time, but at least there was enough solidity to make it over the chasm together, in one piece. 

=======================

There were surprisingly few places to run and hide in a castle with seventy five floors. Even if his life signature couldn't be conjured by a simple press of a button, Keith knew that eventually he would be sniffed out. Perhaps not by Shiro, whose sense of smell had not yet fully recovered, but Pidge and Allura, possibly even Coran, would be able to root him out. Especially at the moment, he thought, glaring at his thighs. He was ripe from his heat. _That_ stench, there was a good chance even Shiro could smell. It was rank. As such, it was no surprise when the door opened and his mate ran in, brow furrowed in concern.

"Keith! What are you doing up here? You were supposed to be in bed, resting!"

Keith sighed heavily, not resisting when the man dropped to the ground beside him and pulled him into his arms. "You're being paranoid, dear."

"I couldn't find you, Keith!"

"You just did."

Shiro sighed into the man's hair. "Were you upset that you were sent away?"

Yes, but that was not why he had given up on his nap. To be fair, he had curled up in his blanket fort and attempted sleep, but it had not come. Half an hour later, he felt he was just wasting time and had decided to put himself to good use. Slipping off to his thinking spot had seemed like a good idea; he had expected the others to take much longer than they had. He supposed it didn't matter. He was not a child. He could go where he wished, when he wished.

Carefully shrugging the man from his shoulders, Keith pulled his tablet towards them and tapped the screen. An explosion of red stars illuminated the room, dotting the space before them with hundreds of constellations and planets. As the vision undulated, planets spinning in orbit and comets flashing through the galaxies, a number of blue halos sprang into place around the planets. 

"What are those?" Shiro asked, settling behind his mate and wrapping his arms around the man's waist.

Keith grunted as lips settled over the nape of his neck. "Are you feeling attention deprived?"

"I can't help it...you still smell like your heat."

As expected. There was no harm, so long as the alpha kept his amorous attentions to a minimum. "Those," Keith began, ignoring the way his mate kissed at his shoulder, "are the locations of recent galra sightings. They haven't pushed this far into the Galetride galaxy in a long while."

"Hmmm."

Shiro was not listening, content to lean against his mate, nosing into his nape and inhaling great lungfuls of the sweet scent there. The man's skin was so soft and warm, welcoming his every attention. 

Grumbling, Keith flicked his fingers and a new set of lights appeared, burning like white hot fire. There were not nearly as many halos and they were more densely spaced.

"And those?" Shiro murmured, daring to press the flat of his tongue against the man's flesh.

A shudder ran up Keith's spine at the touch of tongue and he growled low in his throat. "Those are the most recent sightings of Prince Lotor."

That announcement at last garnered a reaction. Shiro jerked his head up, staring at the orbs of white light amid the constellation map. There were not many, but there were enough to be worrisome. He tried to detect a pattern, to sense if there were some rhyme or reason to the Prince's appearances. If there was one, it was not easily spotted. 

"Keith, why are you--"

"Like you said, the empire has grown bold in Voltron's absence. We need to get back on the battlefield. It's time we take the fight to Lotor."

For a brief moment, Shiro regretted having made that statement. It had not been his intention to throw his team into immediate action, but to stir morale so that they would be more receptive to the coming bonding exercises. "Keith...you don't need to do this. I know that you--"

"No." Keith turned in his embrace, snaking his arms around Shiro's neck and locking his fierce gaze onto the man. "I may be weak. I may be recovering. I may even be a failed pilot--but I am still a warrior. And I have a score to settle with Lotor."

An eye for an eye. The prince had delivered a number of crushing blows to him--stealing his mate, torturing his mate, torturing _him_ \--he wanted vengeance. Perhaps it was not the paladin way, but Keith had long since stopped clinging to the ideals of the paladins of old and accepted the harsh truths of the reality they faced. Archaic principles held little weight in a war of monsters. He had been at this for fifteen long years. He had been a child, tainted by the war. He had stared too long into the abyss, but he did not care. Lotor would pay, that Keith swore by.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was taking it all back: the universe, the power Lotor had over them--his own body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I smell an alpha coming...
> 
> Enjoy! Lemme know how ya like it!

When gathered all together the Voltron coalition was quite impressive. In the years that Shiro had been gone, Keith had tripled the coalition in size. Shiro was itching to know how that had transpired, but it was a matter of lesser importance. The past was the past. All that mattered was the present. As he stood at the head of the meeting table, gazing at a sea of alien faces, most of which he did not recognize, he felt a swelling of pride. His mate had led well. 

"Most of the coalition accepted Keith's leadership." Pidge explained earlier that morning, reviewing the notes for the upcoming meeting with him. "There was some initial hesitation, him being an omega and all. Most had never even heard of an omega taking part in war."

Shiro had smiled grimly. "Well, Keith has always been a unique omega."

"I heard." Pidge smiled softly. "He knocked a few omegas out when he was in school."

"And alphas. He didn't take shit from anyone. Not even me."

"Keith knocked you out?"

Shiro chuckled, thinking back on some of their earlier spats. They all seemed so stupid now, the overly dramatic arguments of teenagers. "He never hit me; we've never raised hands to one another. That's not how our relationship works...though we saw plenty of other alpha/omega couples who did. But, oh, he's hissed and spit and warned me to keep myself in check, lest he decide to break our bond. He won't be controlled or owned by anyone."

"How very Keith like." 

Pidge chortled to herself, thinking on one of the few times she had seen the couple argue. She could not recall what it had been about, but the entire team had been tense for days leading up to the confrontation. Perhaps it had to do with Lotor; anytime the prince was involved, Shiro tried to convince his lover to stay aboard the ship. Keith never took the suggestion well. That must have been it, Pidge thought. Shiro had made the suggestion again and Keith had finally snapped, warning him not to mention it again. Or else. 

She quickly went over the points of order before confusing him with a list of races and names that Shiro knew he would forget in minutes. 

"Watch out for the Gardilons. They support Voltron--didn't support Keith so much."

Immediately, Shiro felt an intense dislike for them. He recalled the planet they had visited some months ago, how the omegas there were little more than slaves, and how the emperor himself had seen no wrong in snubbing Keith. That Keith had been the successful leader of the rebellion for three years in his absence had not mattered at all. All that those men had seen was Keith's stature as omega. Shiro seethed, thinking how he had bungled that diplomatic meeting. If ever they were called back to the planet, he would be certain to make it known that Voltron, a symbol of freedom for all, would not tolerate such oppression.

No one disrespected his mate. 

Just to make a point of that fact, he stood outside of Keith's door prior to the meeting, waiting for the man to emerge. When he did, Keith looked surprised, hands fumbling as he tied his hair into a braid.

"Is everything alright?" he asked warily. "Do you not want me to join?"

Shiro smiled warmly. "The opposite. I want you to walk in with me."

Keith hummed, reading exactly what he needed in the request. Who knew that they would become so well-versed in political games? Shiro took his hand, turning to head down the hall, but he pulled the man back. 

"Baby?"

"Scent me."

He had to be hallucinating, Shiro thought. "Say again?"

"Scent me." Keith repeated firmly, stepping closer. 

His mate stared at him in disbelief. Keith supposed that was not an unusual reaction; it had been years since they had properly scented one another. The stink of the alpha serum had made such intimacy repugnant. Now though, he was aching to be marked once more, by his true and proper mate. But Shiro still hesitated. _He must think it's too good to be true..._ All the man needed was a little push, a sign that the offer was real and very much wanted. Keening encouragingly, Keith tipped his head to the side, baring the column of his neck. 

There was no denying that open invitation. It took more willpower than Shiro wished to confess to, not to lunge forward and drag his mate into his arms and scent him aggressively. It was embarrassing how desperate he was. _Damn alpha hormones_ , he groused internally, tenderly taking Keith in his arms and sniffing at the man's neck. The sweet, alluring scent of Keith's heat still lingered, momentarily taking his thoughts down a sordid route. When he attempted to pull the man flush and grind against him, Keith protested with a warning growl.

"Save it for later." 

"You still smell like heat." he mumbled dumbly, lips pressing repeatedly to Keith's neck.

Keith knew he still smelled. It made him nervous. The scent and pain had never lingered this long before. He was even more wary of going into a meeting, smelling as such. He was acutely aware of some of the opinions held of him. They were not likely to change were he to waltz in, smelling of want and need amid a brood of powerful (if not self-important) alphas. Having Shiro's scent laid strong upon his skin would warn them off. To say nothing of the comfort it would give him.

Neither was certain how many minutes passed, clinging to one another, neck to neck, lost in the other's scent. Longer than either would like to admit. They could have gone on for many minutes more, perhaps hours, had Lance not walked by and called playfully,

"Get a room!"

With the mood effectively ruined, they pushed apart, grumbling at Lance's back as he strutted to the meeting. 

"Some days," Keith muttered as his mate wrapped an arm around his waist, "I want to punch him."

Shiro chuckled as they walked. "Frankly, I'm amazed you've only hit him twice in all these years."

"He earned those hits."

That, Shiro did not doubt. Lance was just a little too friendly and a bit too mouthy for his own good at times. Sometimes his need to get a rise out of someone overrode his sense of self-preservation. And he did so love to needle Keith, which had led to some rather tense moments between all three of them when Lance, accidentally of course, stepped over the bounds of friendship. Fortunately, the blue paladin had seemed to learn that one did not upset the pack omega, even in jest, unless one wanted to be mauled by said omega's alpha mate. A good thing too, because even with an antidote for the feral serum, Shiro did not trust his alpha side not to retaliate viciously, should someone, no matter who they are, upset his mate. He had come to find that he was now extremely protective of Keith.

Glancing at the man from the corner of his eye and noting his mate's content expression, he wagered that Keith did not mind so much.

================

The Blades were the first to stand in a display of due honor when Shiro and Keith entered. There was a moment of uncertainty as the paladins sat, armed in their full armor. Six paladins to five lions. And no red paladin, just two black paladins. There was a collective grin among the paladins as the coalition eyed the two black paladins, reading into that silent declaration. 

Allura stood, proud in her pink armor, and addressed the crowd. Her voice boomed, her aura strong and confident, demanding respect and reverence. Still, the eyes of the crowd drifted away from her and towards the black paladins. 

"You aren't subtle, dear." Keith murmured as they paused hours later for a meal break, slipping from the conference room and into a secluded hall.

Shiro hummed, trailing after, noting with some alarm that Keith maintained a steady hold of the wall as he walked, his other hand pressed against his stomach. The light of the neon lamps cast an eerie glow on the man's sallow skin, making him appear almost ethereal. It did not hide the tint of green on Keith's features though. "We don't have time to be subtle. Are you alright?"

"Stomach cramps."

"Again?" They seemed a constant plague to his mate.

Keith shrugged his shoulders weakly, groaning as his stomach clenched violently. "It comes with the medicine."

So he said, but Shiro was beginning to have doubts. In so far as he could tell, the medications Keith took were for chemical imbalances. Violent physical reactions were not unusual when beginning new medications, but to suffer such effects for months? He had never known his mate to react badly to medicines. 

"I'm worried." he whispered honestly when Keith slumped against the wall, pulling in several deep breathes. Going over, he held onto the man's shoulders, holding him steady as a wave of pain left Keith's knees shaking. "This doesn't seem normal, Keith."

It wasn't, Keith thought, focusing on steadying his breathing. There was nothing normal in the way his body was acting; he could no longer trust it. One minute he could feel entirely fine, the next he could be vomiting or curled up in crippling pain. There never seemed to be an in between; either he was well or he was very, very ill. At the very least, the symptoms were consistent and he typically knew what hell he was in for. He remembered the spells of weakness well, and what usually followed on their heels. 

A surge of acrid bile shot up his throat and before he could properly warn Shiro, he had coughed the watery substance onto the man's chest. The dregs sloshed on the ground between them, a vile smelling puddle that they quickly moved away from as Shiro took firm hold of his arm and steered him towards the medical bay. 

"I'm sorry--"

"Shhh, it's fine." Shiro turned his head, smiling at him reassuringly. "Let's get you off your feet and see what the doctors say."

Neither Ryvaina or Knair appeared surprised to see them when they stumbled unceremoniously into the medical ward. With barely a moment of hesitation, Knair went to an examination table and pulled a blanket over it. With a small pat, she beckoned them over and Keith obediently began shedding his armor.

"He threw up again." Shiro supplied helpfully.

Knair glanced at his chest. "I can see that."

"Something isn't right. He's too sick. Whatever you're giving him isn't working. You need to alter the medication, give him something weaker that his body can handle."

"I will be the judge of that."

"You're poisoning him!" he snapped, irritated that his concerns were being overlooked. Anyone who spent a day aboard the ship could see how weak Keith was. The constant sickness was taking a toll on the man. Were they to ignore the illness too much longer, Keith would grow frail, useless as a paladin and, more importantly, too weak to ever recover. 

Raising his voice had been a mistake. The set of Knair's face grew cold and closed off. "Leave."

Shiro blinked, surprised by the command. "What?"

"Leave. You are effected by his scent still and overly emotional."

"I'm protecting my mate."

"You're an amorous alpha whose brain is addled by your omega's heat hormones."

"You--!"

"Shiro!"

Keith's voice brought a wave of clarity. Calm descended so quickly, Shiro felt lightheaded. Maybe he needed to be in the medical bay as well. Had the alpha reared up? The idea made him shudder in fear. He stuttered an apology, going over to kiss Keith's forehead before leaving the doctors to their work. 

Keith watched the man leave with a hesitant expression.

"You're right." he told Knair. "He's reacting to the smell of my heat. I _still_ smell like heat."

The woman made no comment, pulling together a slew of tools and seating herself at the foot of the table. She was considerably more gentle during this examination than she had been previously, or so Keith thought. Her probing fingers did not hurt so much as they pressed into the soft, sensitive parts of his body. Even the tools he found that he did not mind so much. 

As Knair pulled away, setting her utensils onto a tray, he noted they were covered with slick. Yet another part of his heat that had not faded. 

"What's happening?" he asked timidly. He tried not to be dramatic, but the thought that his body was trying to kill him had crossed his mind once or twice. 

She did not answer. The doctors pulled away, speaking among themselves in hushed tones. Their secrecy did nothing to alleviate his concerns, but when Knair returned to his side, she patted his head, as if he were an obedient child.

"You will go into heat soon." she said, matter-of-factly.

Keith blinked. "Again?" 

She nodded, moving away to prepare a sedative.

"But...I was just in heat two weeks ago. How can I be--that can't be right-- _why_ would I be--"

Ryvaina stepped close, handing him his black uniform. "The type of recovery you are undergoing is not easy, nor is it pleasant. Your body shut down in response to trauma. It is awakening now, attempting to regulate itself. Your system is slow to respond, but it _is_ responding."

He was no doctor, so Keith would take her word for it. It made sense, logically, he supposed. His depression had plagued him for years, transforming his body in a number of ugly ways. Several months of painful recovery ought to be expected. 

"So I'll be going into heat more than regularly, is that what you're saying."

"This will only be your second heat; we cannot make theories based on so little evidence. If after the actual heat comes, you still smell and are wet as if in heat, then we will be able to make some reasonable guesses as to what your body will do and how we may combat it." 

"Pills." he blurted. 

Knair stepped closer, expression fierce. "No pills. Your body must be back to normal before you even consider altering it with suppressants."

So he had to suffer, Keith thought dejectedly. It had been ages since he had endured a heat without any pills--last heat not included. It was torture, to leak so much, to need and want so much, to say nothing of the cramping all through his body. The pain was exaggerated though, far worse than any of the cramping he had silently suffered while in school. 

It would be a long road, he thought as he pulled the black suit into place and contemplated his armor. The meeting would be in full swing by that time; he could return, although he suspected that would make even more of a spectacle than him not being present when it had resumed. Sighing, he yanked the chest plate from the floor and piled the rest of the pieces in his arms. He would get a summary from Shiro later. Until then, he supposed he would go and rest.

====================

A plate of noodles was shoved beneath Shiro's nose before he could utter any protest of not being hungry. He looked to Hunk, mouth falling open as the words came to his lips, but the man stared back at him, expression hard and unyielding.

"You need to eat." 

He did, but Shiro's thoughts were so preoccupied with Keith that he had little appetite. He leaned back in his chair, glancing about at the empty dining room. Pidge and Lance had darted off after the meeting, opting to take dinner in their rooms and crawl into bed immediately after for a nap. It had been a tiring day for them all.

"Did you drop a plate off for Keith?" he asked, stirring the pasta absently.

Hunk nodded. "I did. He looked pretty lousy."

"He threw up on me earlier."

"Huh, thought that was more my M.O."

Shiro tried to smile. Hunk saw the way the corners of his mouth lifted briefly before falling back into a frown. The old melancholy had returned, turning his thoughts dark. Keeping his hope afloat while the coalition argued for hours and the scent of dried vomit on his clothes stung his nose was a chore. It made him tired. He just wanted to rest, to pretend for a short while that everything was well.

Hunk recognized that look. For months Shiro had sulked and moped, looking very much like the exhausted leader they all knew he was. Clearing his throat, he took a seat across from the man, fingers straying over the spare utensils he had yet to put away.

"I was thinking about what you said the other day, Shiro."

"Oh? What was that?" 

"About apologizing." Shiro's expression faltered. "I know you meant it as a joke, to try and lighten the mood, but you were right. We all owe you an apology for---I don't know, everything. We really weren't acting like a team back then, were we? I just--"

Shiro lifted a hand to silence the man. "Hunk. Stop. You don't need to say any more. You and I--we're good."

Were they though? Hunk was uncertain. He was a pacifist, a peacekeeper. He knew how dangerous negative emotions were, how detrimental they could be to not just the mission, but to the team, and to the individual. After everything Shiro had gone through, he wanted to help his friend heal as much as he could.

He sighed. "You may say that, but I still want to say my sorries. I'll be honest; sometimes you're hard for me to read. You hide what you think and feel so well. It's a lot easier to see when Keith is falling apart. I felt protective of him. We all did." He paused, staring absently at the countertop, unpleasant memories surfacing. "We forgot about you. We left you to fend for yourself. We weren't a team."

Astonishingly, Shiro found that he no longer cared that much. His anger had been vented ages ago, his righteous indignations birthed and brought into the world. The guilty parties had been confronted. There were so many more things of importance to worry about--like his ill mate.

With a self-suffering sigh, Shiro stood, leaning across the counter to clap a hand on the man's shoulder. "Hunk, we're good. Like I told you before, I appreciate you looking out for Keith. God knows he needed it. You did right by him, and that means you did right by me."

"But--"

"I mean it." He smiled, a weak but true smile. "Thank you."

Hunk nodded, eyeing the full plate of food that Shiro left behind as he shuffled off to take a brief rest. He should have said more, Hunk admonished himself. Looking after Keith was all well and good, but Shiro needed to look after himself as well. Keith might need help, but he also wouldn't like knowing that his mate was neglecting his own needs. Perhaps he should drop a subtle hint to Keith; a worried word from him would likely set Shiro straight. Shiro was ever the one to please when it came to Keith. 

=================

_He_ was calling. There was a familiar, unpleasant tug at the back of Keith's mind, demanding his attention, nudging him into movement. Close, he thought, worrying at the edge of his blanket as he sat up in bed. How close though? Close enough that Keith could feel his presence, but still far enough that he was not compelled to follow the pull. Or maybe Lotor was not that strong any longer. Maybe, with Shiro back, the prince's thrall over him had been broken, or at least significantly weakened.

He placed a hand over the mating mark on his neck, rubbing as the muscle throbbed in unison with each pulsating pull in his mind. There would never be any getting rid of the mark; he had asked Coran, begged Kolivan for assistance, but there was no help for it. The bond they might be able to weaken and disrupt, but so long as the mark was there, he would be forever tied to Lotor. 

Keith growled low in his throat, tearing his hand away. So many indignities had been forced on him. No longer. He was taking his body back; he had declared that weeks ago when he had finally broken through his spell of repulsion and touched himself. There was still much to reclaim. 

Snatching up his communicator, he schooled the scowl from his face as Shiro appeared on the screen.

"I need you." he commanded. "Please come to my room."

The man's brows knitted together. "Of course. Are you alright?"

Keith's indignation faltered at his mate's concern. "I'm fine, I just--I want you to mark me."


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the calm before the great storm, but even the calming moments can be tumultuous. And yet, they are so in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we're moving on! Enjoy this--shit happens next chapter. Certain hunting things happen. Alpha hunting things.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and commenting! Your reviews totally make my day! Thank you for leaving them and please keep doing so! You make me wanna write more! 
> 
> Oh, and....NSFW chapter

The hallway was unnervingly quiet and Shiro fought against a tremor of nervousness. Of course it was quiet; it was the middle of the night. The rest of the paladins and the lingering members of the coalition had retired hours ago. Hunk and Allura had warned him that he needed to get to bed as well, that his stamina was depleting and he was looking more gray than usual, but that was easier said than done. His head was full. Try as he might, no number of blankets, pillows, cups of tea, or sleeping pills could get him to sleep. It was a familiar dilemma. Which led him to his mate's door.

It had been a day since Keith had retreated into his quarters in full heat. The days leading up to then had been miserable, with the man avoiding company when possible, darting into empty rooms when others came his way, hastily leaving a room when he happened upon another. Keith was trying to be discreet, but Shiro got the impression that his antics did little more than make the coalition members question his sanity. 

It was a fate they shared; he was acting just as strange and no few people had noticed. With a sigh, Shiro hung his head, staring at the sealed door as he considered his own curious actions. They were nothing as unusual or drastic as when the alpha surfaced, although he had felt his alpha side growing stronger as of late. Panicking, he had forced the doctors to do a full examination of him, only to be told that he was, essentially, being paranoid. Knair practically leered in contempt as she handed him his latest round of serum injections. 

"Your mate is in heat." she said, a sneer in her voice. "Of course your alpha side is reacting. You wish to bed him."

Maybe that was the root of all of his restlessness, but Shiro had not appreciated his concerns being brushed aside. If the alpha ever gained full control of him, they would all suffer for it. He let his discontent be known, only to be banned from the medical bay until he had 'true problems' or he was in a more rational state of mind. ...Maybe she had a valid point; he did tend to be more...aggressive and short sighted when Keith was in heat. It came with the nature of being mated...and having a mate in heat. Being sexually frustrated only made matters worse. 

Which brought him to Keith's door. Honestly, he had no real idea what he was doing there or what he hoped for. If Keith wanted to mate, he would have called. As was, he would not blame Keith for loathing the idea of sex and never wanting intercourse again. After everything the man had been through, the thought of intimacy would have been terrifying. And yet Shiro held hope after the evening they had shared.

Like a dutiful alpha, he had run to his mate when Keith called, easily agreeing to whatever the man suggested. He had longed to mark Keith since his rescue months ago and leaped at the opportunity. His mating mark on Keith's shoulder was clearly old. It looked less of a mating mark and more of a scar, a fading memory that had little meaning and whatever meaning it had possessed was lost more with each passing day. The thought had made Shiro's chest ache as he traced his fingers over the last remaining ridge of tissue. Keith shivered beneath his fingertips, turning his head slightly to stare at him.

"Is everything alright?" Keith had asked, oddly timid.

Shiro smiled reassuringly, dropping his hand. "Everything is fine, I was just---it's been a long time since I've seen it is all."

His mate had not replied, turning his face away again and grumbling. Shiro's eyes strayed from his mating mark to the hideous blemish on Keith's opposite shoulder. It was old as well, but there would be no fading. However Lotor had done it, he had been savage about it; the scar was cruel and ugly, as if the prince had dug his teeth in as deep as they could go and tugged harshly. He could not wait to place his own mark over that monster's unseemly mar. A growl slipped from his throat and Keith spun in alarm.

"What?"

"Ah," Shiro fumbled for his words, reaching out for the man, "it's nothing, I was just thinking about how the easiest way to do this would be. I can--we can do it like that, with your back to me, or you can sit on my lap." At Keith's prolonged stare he offered, "It would be easier for me to easily get to if you were in my lap."

Keith raised an eyebrow.

"This isn't a ploy to get you in my lap; I'm not that stupid."

"Not stupid, just hopeful." 

Shiro did not deny it. He sat still as Keith hesitantly shifted, crawling forward and placing small hands onto his shoulders. They caught gazes for a moment and Keith stared, searching the depths of his eyes. Shiro laid himself bare, hiding nothing. Whatever it was his mate had been looking for, he found. 

It was a bit of an awkward affair, slotting their limbs together and maneuvering into the most comfortable position which allowed them both freedom to move away if need be. Keith was a warm weight in Shiro's lap, legs wrapped loosely around his waist as the man shifted to find comfort. Shiro choked on a strangled moan as his mate's hips pushed forward, brushing against him with a delicious shock of friction. Doing this while Keith smelled of his coming heat made the process ten times more difficult, but he was determined to keep himself in check. 

The needy sound had not gotten past Keith's detection. The man watched his expression carefully. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." he replied tightly.

"You want to rut."

"I'm _thinking_ about rutting; how can I not, with you in my lap, smelling like that? That doesn't mean I'm going to! I'm not--"

Keith placed a hand over his mouth, effectively cutting off his protest. He smiled softly. "Shiro, it's fine. I'm not trying to tease you. If this is too much, we can do this another time."

For a moment, Shiro considered taking the offer. He trusted Keith and mostly trusted himself, but marking was no mundane act. It was as intimate as lovemaking, it was a physical manifestation of their bond. Which was why Shiro knew he could not simply get up and leave the room, putting it off for another day. He wanted to mark Keith, to feel their bond once more, strong and present as it had once been, throbbing between them so vibrantly they could both feel it, even planets apart. Searching Keith's eyes, he saw that his mate wanted it as much as he did.maybe even more. 

He leaned forward with determination, catching Keith's lips in a forceful kiss before burrowing into the man's neck. He pressed tender kisses to his faded mark over and over, waiting for the anxious shivers to leave Keith's body before beginning.

"It will hurt." he whispered as the tremors of apprehension left his mate's body. 

Keith rolled his head back, baring more of his neck. "I know." _I don't care._

Shiro shuddered, smelling the arousal rolling off of his mate, heavy and sweet. 

"I love you, baby."

Any response Keith had was lost to the strangled cry torn from him as Shiro sank his teeth into soft, pliant flesh. He felt Keith tense and convulse, instinctively urging him to wrap his arms tightly around the man. Keith clung to him, pressing as close as possible, gasping as the pain of the marking ebbed. Nails sank into Shiro's back and he growled around his mate's flesh, greedily sucking in a mouthful of blood. 

After many deep breaths and frantically tangling himself in Shiro's arms, Keith threw his head back and moaned loudly. Pain gave way to blinding pleasure the likes of which he had not experienced in ages. The teeth sank further, piercing his scent gland, grinding into his muscle possessively. Shiro growled as he bit in as deeply as he could, digging his fingers into his mate's body. Keith went lax in his arms, hanging limply, moaning and keening wantonly. Every drag of his teeth or slurping mouthful of blood was met with a welcoming moan from his mate.

Shiro could feel their bond coming back to life with every lap of blood and thud of Keith's pulse against his teeth. He did not want to let go, he did not want to be parted from Keith. His senses were heightened, he was drunk on the smell of his mate's heat and the taste of his flesh. The touch of Keith's slender hands scrambling over his back and arms was like fire igniting in his veins. 

It was time to stop though, some distant part of his mind chimed, somehow able to maintain sanity as their primal nature began to take hold. Their bond was reforged. He had marked his mate and Keith was responding in earnest, whimpering into his chest and grinding his hips down hungrily. If they did not stop, they would make a mistake and when their hormone addled brains cleared they would both feel foolish. He could not stand the thought of abusing Keith's trust.

He quite literally had to pry himself from Keith, he had bitten down so deep. A weak groan of disappointment fell from Keith's lips before he slumped from Shiro's arms, curling tiredly in his nest of blankets. A heavy silence hung between them; they both knew what could have easily transpired, had Shiro not pushed away. Maybe it would not have been the devastating event he had thought it would be, but Keith had not explicitly said he was ready for intimacy yet. That was not how Shiro wanted their reunion to be, built on miscommunication and unstable hormones.

He had left his mate tucked in bed, his mating mark carefully cleaned, bandaged, and iced. He wanted nothing more than to pull Keith back into his arms and mark his other shoulder, laying his claim atop Lotor's disgusting scar, banishing the prince's presence permanently. One at a time though. Keith was weak and could only handle oh so much. Before anything else, they needed to reestablish their bond. As soon as he as able, Keith promised, Shiro could lay another mark. It was a day they both looked forward to. As he had left, Keith eyed him pleasantly, too tired to find words to fill the silence. That had been three days ago, before the full force of Keith's heat had struck and sent him into self-imposed exile. 

The communicator on his wrist crackled suddenly, Keith's tired voice wafting over the line, drawing him from his memories. "How long are you going to stand out there? Come in already."

Shiro stared at the communicator a moment before responding. "You knew I was here?"

A soft crackle of static. "I can feel you, Shiro."

Of course he could. Their bond. How stupid of him not to realize. Once Keith marked him in return, he would be able to sense his mate better as well. Soon, he told himself, entering the room. 

When the door closed behind him, he was plunged into darkness. It took a moment for Shiro's eyes to adjust to the dimness, the only light coming from the lamp above the bed headboard. The pale blue light fell on Keith's sallow skin, practically illuminating him. The man's tired eyes brightened briefly, his mouth twitching into a smile, before the expression faltered and he fell back into his pillows with a groan.

"You look awful, baby." Shiro said, striding over briskly, kneeling on the ground and taking Keith's hand.

Keith hummed, squeezing the man's hand. "You're not supposed to say that. You're supposed to tell me how beautiful I look."

"You always look beautiful, even when you look awful."

Keith laughed at that, cracking his eyes open to gaze at his mate. He was exhausted, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead erratically, eyes dark and rimmed black, but he never looked more lovely to Shiro. He pressed their foreheads together, feeling the clamminess of his mate's damp skin, and keened softly at him. 

This was familiar. The exhaustion Keith felt, the guilt nagging at his conscious, reminding him that his mate's unhappiness was due to his own failings as an alpha. It had happened before, years ago, when he and his mate should have been happily reunited and rekindling their love after his flight from the galra and subsequent return to earth. It should have been a time of great joy. Keith laved loving attention on him daily, telling him of the reports surrounding the Kerbros incident, how the team had been declared legally dead due to pilot error, how his mate had struggled to survive a year alone in the desert. Shiro had ached to comfort his mate, to kiss away his tears and assure him through touch and word that he would never abandon him again. But something stopped him. He was not the same boy that had left for Kerberos. He was less--much less than what Keith deserved. In the face of his own shortcomings, he had forced Keith at arms length. Keith never complained, though he was obviously pained. The young man had met every day with a smile, standing loyally by his side, but never pushing for more, always waiting for Shiro to be ready. 

Keith's patience was a gift he abused. He wanted Keith as badly as his mate had wanted him, but he was afraid. He was broken, a fractured soldier, a tool of the galra empire, hardly worthy of being a paladin, much less the beloved alpha of the only person he had ever loved. No amount of soothing had been able to clear that notion from Shiro's head. He was so consumed by his own self destructive hatred that he had not seen the signs of Keith's distress.

===================

The signs had been there for days and somehow Shiro had still missed them. Keith was unusually argumentative, snapping at anyone and everyone, even his mate. Shiro had not been all that surprised at the venom directed towards him; he had been due to be the target of Keith's ire for some time. He had made the young man wait an exceptionally long time for him; irritation was bound to happen. That he was taking it out on the rest of the paladins was unacceptable though. The evening before, Keith had throttled Lance during training, his temper breaking at the slightest jest. 

He had not wanted to play the role of leader, especially on Keith, but inappropriate behavior had to be addressed. No one thought much of it when Keith failed to appear for breakfast. Sulking, Lance guessed, still upset about the altercation the night before. Shiro had doubted that, but remained silent. If Keith did not feel like eating, it would be to his own detriment. 

As the morning progressed though, Keith still had not appeared and when it came time to begin training, Shiro knew he had to step in and take action. He was mildly annoyed, truth told; they did not have time for childish behavior. When he walked into Keith's room, he was prepared to chastise him and had half of his scolding out of his mouth when the scent struck him. 

Keith gazed at him in surprise, curled in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin.

"Keith...!" The breath stuck in Shiro's chest momentarily, nostrils flooding with the alluring scent. He had not smelled that enticing scent in over a year, since they had properly mated before the Kerberos launch. He was almost brought to his knees in hunger. "You're in heat!"

The young man had nodded solemnly, turning his gaze away as if guilty. "If you're coming to yell at me, you don't have to. I know I was acting--I was just upset." 

_I was in pain. I was distressed._ Shiro heard the truth lurking in his mate's words. Perhaps Keith had even been scared. Standing at the foot of the young man's bed, staring at his young mate, smelling his need and want, Shiro knew that _he_ was scared. They had known this day was coming, when nature would take its course and their bond would burst into bloom once more. He feared he still wasn't ready, even after all of Keith's patience. But, god, he wanted. He ached to have Keith again. 

"You don't have to stay." Keith whispered, pressing his cheek to his pillow. "I know you don't want to."

"Don't...want to?" Shiro echoed, chest tightening. "How could you think that?"

How could Keith _not_ think that, was a better question. His mate did not answer; instead, he nestled further into his nest of bedding and whined. 

_You're a failure_ , Shiro thought. He had pledged to take care of Keith for the rest of his life and he had been too selfish to see his mate's pain. Was their reunion not gift enough from the universe? Was he not grateful to get away from the galra with his life? Was a second chance to live not good enough for him? 

He approached slowly, dropping down beside the bed and pressing his palm to Keith's sweating forehead. The hair beneath his hand was wet, as if the young man had just come from the shower, but Shiro new better. 

"No pills?" he said softly, stroking through Keith's hair. "It must be worse than normal."

"The worst it's been."

It looked it. Every few seconds, Keith would tremble beneath his hand, shivering as a pseudo fever passed through him. He smelled of sweat and pain and...slick. Shiro drew a deep breath, tasting the scent on his tongue, burning his nose, burrowing into his senses and igniting a fire in his gut. 

His mate. The one he had pledged endless love and loyalty to. His sweet omega. His Keith. 

Neither of them was certain how or when it had happened, but their nature took over. His need to protect and love burned and Keith welcomed his attention, craving it, demanding it with desperate mewls and harsh grips on his shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper. Shiro was never certain when clarity dawned on him, but it didn't seem to matter. He was with his mate, holding him down, pulsing inside of him, marking and claiming him as they both had wanted for months. Somewhere between the soft kisses and gentle caresses of the other's body, they had become blissfully lost. Nothing mattered but their love and they showed it to one another over and over until they were spent and the world had faded to little more than a ghost of a memory.

===================

"Shiro?"

Keith's hand pressed to his cheek, a cold reminder of the present, drawing him from his memories. "What is it? What are you thinking?"

Shiro grabbed the man's hand, pressing it tightly to his cheek before turning to press a kiss to Keith's palm. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Just thinking how much I love you."

==================

In the following days, Shiro lost himself. Thoughts of Prince Lotor and the coalition vied for dominance in his hormone addled head, but his thoughts always turned to Keith, who smelled like heaven and writhed eagerly beneath his touch; Keith, who was not yet ready to welcome him into his body, but still allowed him to play with it; Keith, who he adored with a growing passion he had not known he could possess. Allura and Pidge grinned at him knowingly as he trailed his mate's steps, never straying too far from the man's side. Like a lost puppy, Shiro thought in embarrassment, even as he pulled Keith tightly against his side.

Whether Keith's heat was making him pliant or the man was simply more comfortable with Shiro's presence, his mate no longer ran from him. His touch was welcome once more. When he pulled Keith into his arms, Keith molded against him willingly, sighing in contentment. Perhaps the thaw in attitude was what drove Shiro to compulsive attachment. He could hardly be without his mate for ten minutes before he was itching to hunt the man down. It was infuriatingly distracting, but no amount of patience brought his focus back. It was easier to track Keith and huddle together, planning and mapping their strategies together while tangled in bed.

All the while Knair was reading his vitals and testing his blood, he was tapping his fingers impatiently, wanting to be far from the medical bay and back in Keith's presence. The Blade cast an irritated look at him no few times, even making a comment about his smell. Shiro had forgotten that protectiveness had a scent. He imagined that he stunk of it. He missed so many smells; it made the scent of Keith's heat all the more precious. 

She handed him his weekly dose of serum and he stared at it mutely. So small, he marveled. It fit in the palm of his hand. A single vial of amber liquid was all that kept him from devolving into a snarling, feral beast. Without it, he could lose all sanity...he would lose Keith. 

"There's no cure." he mumbled dejectedly, curling his fingers around the vial. 

Knair nodded solemnly, her face betraying nothing. "Not yet."

"You aren't hopeful."

"There may not be a cure for many years." she admitted honestly.

Years. How many years, he wondered. Three? Ten? Twenty? Would he be injecting himself with the equivalent of alpha insulin for the rest of his life? Shiro supposed there was no way to tell. Bright as the Blade of Marmora operatives were, they were strapped for supplies, working with recycled tools, and had few resources to draw upon. The labs they occupied aboard the ship, old as they were, were at least three times the size of the base and stocked well. For all the grumbling and tinkering they did with the medical machines, both Knair and Ryvaina seemed pleased with their lot.

He took his dismal thoughts back to his tiny room, sitting a moment on his bed and staring at the vial once more. Sighing, he clenched his fist three times before finding a vein and plunging the needle in. Drop by drop the serum disappeared, seeping into his blood, poisoning him, saving him. A rush of blood left him lightheaded and he groaned, dropping his head tiredly. 

Shiro ignored the gush of blood as he pulled the needle free, letting it slip down the crook of his elbow to his palm. It was a sound reminder of his humanity, that he was still alive, he was still human, despite all that had been done to him. For a long moment, Shiro stared the blood beading from the injection site. 

_You're still alive. You have that._

There was something else he had and he was filled with a sudden, desperate need to find him. 

==============

The weight of Shiro's gaze was heavy and near impossible to ignore, but Keith refused to acknowledge it yet again. His mate wished to stare; he would allow it. Pressing the man for answers had drawn nothing, so he decided it was best to let Shiro lean against the doorway and gawk as he rummaged through his--their medicine cabinet. He had tossed yet another bottle of pills into the trash chute when the man finally spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning this out." Keith murmured, grabbing an empty bottle that once held his birth control. No need for that any longer. To the chute it went. "I don't use any of these anymore."

A handful of sleeping pills rattled in the next container. After a brief hesitation, he threw them as well. There was nothing of use, he reminded himself; sleeping pills were no longer needed and the anti-depressants he once used were ineffective compared to the ones Knair gave him. The vitamins he should keep. And the lubrication--that would come in handy soon, if all went according to plan. He plucked up an old box of condoms, considering. 

There was a sudden spike in the air and Keith tried not to laugh at how easily Shiro's alpha side reacted. He opened the trash chute again.

"You haven't knotted me in awhile."

"Three years." Shiro growled.

"Longer than that." he threw the condoms into the trash, along with a handful of near empty creams and antiseptic tubes. "If I'm cursed, we might as well enjoy the curse. I always prefer you bare when inside of me."

Shiro's arousal faltered, a sharp prick of pain in his chest. "You don't actually think you're cursed, do you?"

Keith snorted, staring a moment in pleasure at the emptied shelves before closing the cabinet door. "I was born an omega, made for breeding, only to come to find that I am incapable of bearing children. If it's not a curse, it's at the very least a sick joke the universe is playing."

Truly, he could not argue that point. Shiro tried not to think how often they had attempted to breed and how crushed they had been to learn... He banished the memory angrily.

"Nothing will ever change how much I love you."

They stared at one another across the room, words sitting heavily between them. Keith turned his eyes to the floor, frowning as he thought of his great disappointment. No matter how long it had been, he still felt the sting. Shaking his head, he brushed past his mate as he returned to bed and sank into his nest of blankets. 

"I'm talking about getting your cum inside of me for the first time in years and here you are talking about love." he laughed stiffly. 

"It seemed important to say."

And it was. Every day, he needed to reassure Keith that, despite all that had transpired between them, every indignity that had been forced on them, he was still loved. Nothing could tarnish his worth in Shiro's eyes. When he pulled Keith into his arms, the man did not resist, nor did he fight when Shiro kissed him passionately, forcing his lips apart and slipping his tongue inside the warm cavern of his mouth. It felt natural, falling into bed on top of his mate, scrabbling at one another's clothes in a frenzy to be flesh on flesh. 

Keith's mouth pressed to the juncture of his neck, laying kiss after kiss to his old mark. Teeth grazed his flesh teasingly and Shiro hissed, pulling away momentarily to rip the shirt over his head and wrestle with his belt. With his own clothes hastily discarded, he turned his attention to the sagging shirt and sweatpants his mate still wore like a uniform. He paused a split second to appreciate how Keith looked, drowned in his over-sized clothes, before reaching for the man's waistband and sliding the pants down his legs. 

There was a moment of hesitation when they were fully undressed. Three long years had changed him and Shiro felt the oddest urge to cover himself. The want still sat prominently in Keith's eyes, his legs splayed in a welcoming display. Still, Shiro hesitated. He felt bared, body and soul. The familiar fear of rejection bubbled to the surface of his mind and he took a step backwards.

Keith's hand shot out, latching onto his wrist. "Don't." he begged. "Don't leave me."

Shiro felt his heart stutter. "I--never."

After a tense moment, his mate's fingers threaded with his. He was guided back gently until Keith could wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him abed once more. The kiss they lost themselves to was less passionate, speaking of love and loss and the deep, humbling satisfaction they had, now they were together once more. A pleased rumbling vibrated in his chest as Keith's skillful fingers caressed his scalp, fingertips trailing behind his ear and down to his nape before sliding into the thickest part of his hair. 

When he urged Keith into his lap, the man complied readily, shifting with a happy mewl before wrapping his legs around his mate's hips. Those same skillful fingers slid between them, finding Shiro's cock and circling it. Shiro sucked in a sharp breath, grasping his mate's hips and grinding him down on his lap until slick smeared on his thigh.

"Not yet." Keith whispered in his ear, working his hand teasingly slow. 

It took a moment for Shiro's sex-hazed mind to understand. When he did, he pressed a kiss to Keith's chest. "Of course."

"Next heat."

"Of course."

He moved lower, tongue flicking against Keith's swollen, red nipple. He could smell the sweetness just beneath the surface of his mate's skin and he ached to have it. Keith needed to be milked, he told himself, opening his lips and latching onto the plump nipple. The man gasped as he sucked once, firmly and insistently. When nothing came to his mouth, he lifted a hand to gently knead the muscle of Keith's chest, urging his milk out. It came in a gush, bursting onto his tongue in a delicious wave that he hungrily gulped down.

Keith's fingers faltered as he slumped into Shiro's arms, head thrown back in pleasure. Relief flooded his mind, so strong and engulfing he did not notice when Shiro pressed him into the mattress to lay between his legs, suckling and slurping with an enthusiasm he had not felt in years. It felt like heaven. He was blissed out of his mind, back arching off of the bed, hands scrabbling between the bedsheets, the pillows, and Shiro's hair. If the man protested the rough touches, Keith could not hear, the room was too loud with his own moans and cries of pleasure. 

Rational thoughts became distant things in Keith's mind, the urges of his heat suddenly vibrant, undulating in his mind until all he could focus on was Shiro's mouth on his nipple, suckling, nursing from him, and the mounting pleasure building in his abdomen. He came once, twice, possibly thrice as his mate hummed around his flesh, taking every last drop of milk he could. 

It took a disappointingly short time for the felicity to end. Shiro groaned as the last sweet drop of milk touched his tongue. Keith had nothing left to give; he was dry. It was less than he was used to receiving, but the man's body was only just getting used to heat once more. Another cycle or two and he would hopefully be blessed with the same meal-sized servings of delicious milk he craved.

He continued to work his lips over the sensitive nub, cleaning his mate of the milk he had carelessly let slip from his mouth. Keith continued to moan and writhe against him, an arm tossed across his eyes as he recovered from yet another orgasm. He was a mess--a beautiful mess. And he was all Shiro's. 

_Mine._ The thought filled him with such a swelling of love, he did not stop for breath as he pulled off of the man's nipple and covered his mouth in a possessive kiss. Keith parted his lips eagerly, hands flying to Shiro's back and pulling him close once more. The intoxicating scent of needy omega filled his nose and he reached eagerly between Keith's legs, finding the slick wet entrance and plunging a finger inside. The man shuddered beneath him, gasping in pleasure before burying his face into the crook of Shiro's shoulder.

"Next heat." Keith whimpered, clamping down on the fingers inside of him, working in and out of his passage soothingly.

"Next heat." Shiro echoed, rubbing the pads of his fingers teasingly against the sensitive spots of his mate's inner body. 

Keith purred in response, toes curling. "Next heat." He caught his breath on a moan. "Next heat I want to take your knot."

It would not be a long wait, with his heats coming so frequently. They would both await that day anxiously. Until then, there were many ways to sate themselves. 

=========

There was nothing better than a steaming hot bath after a long day of heat pains--especially when his body was covered not just in sweat and grim, but the sticky residue of his slick and cum, as well as his mate's. He was a disgusting mess, but it was a glorious and welcome mess. A long sigh slipped past Keith's lips as he reclined in the tub, water lapping up to his shoulders and easing the tenderness from his aching muscles. His loose hair fanned around him in waves, stray locks sticking to his shoulders, like ink bleeding in the water. 

For however many long minutes, the world melted away, leaving his mind blissfully empty and his body at ease. Submerged in the warm, comforting depths of a deep tub, there was no war, there were no galra enemies, there was no Lotor, no night terrors or hallucinations--just peace. For those few minutes, he felt free. 

Freedom was always short-lived though, difficult to obtain and quick to flee. Shiro had watched him from the doorway, staring in longing as he disrobed and undid the pleat in his hair. The man did not approach though, expression drawn as if concerned. The bedroom must have been lonely; eventually Shiro entered, smiling at him as he passed and found a spot in the corner, shoved between the tub and toilet. Keith sat up and watched the man curl his legs close to his chest, head drooping towards his knees. 

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

Shiro lifted his head, forcing a smile. He was quite good at that. "Fine, baby. Just enjoy your bath."

Pushing for answers rarely worked on Shiro, even when he clearly wished to talk, so Keith nodded and settled into the tub once more, skimming his palms over the surface of the water. All while he bathed, lathering his body and washing his hair, he could feel his mate's eyes on his body, drinking him in hungrily. And yet there was no scent of arousal, only remorse. It became too much to ignore. Turning back to the man, he folded his arms over the lip of the tub, leaning forward with a curious expression. Words were never his strong suit, so he allowed his expression to speak for him.

Shiro's lips twitched in an aborted smile before trembling with emotion. "I fucked up."

"How so?"

"I lost you."

Keith keened softly, offering the calming scent that his alpha would respond to. "You didn't lose me. I'm right here."

Shiro could smell the intoxicating scent wafting from Keith and shuddered as the scent rolled across his skin. Whether he wished it or not, he responded to the scent, the same way his little omega responded to his own pheromones. Calm descended, but the melancholy could not be chased away. 

"I fucked up." he repeated, lifting a hand to his watering eyes. He could not help it; he could no longer keep it in. Too long he had suffered silently, shouldering a burden he had known that he needed to share the weight of. His shoulders began shaking, his entire body quickly joining, quaking violently as he succumbed to tears.

_Weak. Useless. Pathetic._

He was not the man he had once been. He was not the alpha he had been, strong and wise and capable. He was emotional and his frivolous emotions had cost him--had cost them all--dearly. He was no leader. Leaders did not fail the entire universe and then bawl about it.

His shirt grew suddenly damp. A dripping cheek was pressed to the top of his head, a comforting keen hummed into his ear. Keith's wiry arms twined around his shoulders, pulling him into his warmth. Shiro did not fight it, succumbing to his weakness instead and pressing his forehead to Keith's chest, sobbing fiercely.

"It was Matt!" he choked out. "It was _Matt_!"

Keith hummed softly, combing his fingers through the soft scruff of the man's buzz cut. "I know."

"I only wanted to--I thought I could save him! I thought--I thought--"

"Shhh," he nuzzled Shiro, pressing kisses to his hairline. "I know. I understand."

Understanding did not take back the pain, did not save him from running into galra hands and tearing Voltron apart with his incompetence. Understanding did not mend either of their broken hearts. There was only oh so much understanding could do. Shiro loathed himself that moment. He had allowed himself to be swayed by emotion and the entire universe had suffered for it. But it had seemed so worth it at the moment...he could save Matt, he had been convinced. Had he known that he risked losing his mate, he would have never taken the risk. 

But he had, fool that he was. 

"I forgive you."

Shiro sucked in a shaky breath." Wh-what?"

"I said I forgive you." 

Whatever imagined sins Shiro had conjured, he needed to be absolved of them. They had wronged each other many ways during the man's initial return, but that was neither of their faults, though Keith knew that they would both feel guilt over their behavior for years to come, if not forever.

Keith pulled back, grasping his mate's face firmly in hand, forcing eye contact. "Whatever negative feelings I held onto...I've let them go now. I could never stay angry with you." He moved his hand down the column of the man's neck, rubbing soothingly at his scent gland. "I love you. And you never have to ask for my forgiveness; I always give it freely."

He was pulled tightly to Keith's chest again, cheek pressed to the crook of the man's shoulder. Shiro's tears slid down his cheeks, mingling with the warm bathwater dripping from Keith's body. He clung and sobbed like an infant, greedily drinking the comfort his mate offered. When Keith urged him up and to bed, he did not fight. When Keith told him to stay, he did not argue or question, merely molded into his mate's waiting arms and laid there, awash in the man's scent and loving keens, until he drifted into a deep, black sleep while cradled in loving arms.

=======

The doctors were proving to also be great mechanics and engineers, Coran thought as he reviewed the machines in the main medical bay. When first he had walked in on them tampering with the equipment, he had been somewhat less than graceful, shouting and chastising them like a parent to a wayward child. His venom was quickly turned back on him, the sharper of the Blades reminding him how outdated the ship technology was. It was dangerous Knair claimed; having reviewed the machines' various templates, she was aghast to see that none had been calibrated for human needs. 

"You're lucky these machines have worked as well as they have for so many years. They have failed your humans. It's no wonder they found nothing wrong with the alpha; they would not know where to look!"

Guilt had settled heavily on his chest, thinking of the weeks Shiro had dragged himself around the castle, knowing he was ill, but unable to find the root of his illness. A properly calibrated scan should have caught his elevated levels, the Blades claimed as they turned their attention from the scanners towards the healing pods. They were on a mission, Coran saw; they would adapt all technology to suit the paladins. Truthfully, they were doing a fine job at it and, when Kolivan had attended the coalition meeting, he had brought several engineers to assist with the process. 

Placing a hand on the new scanner screen, he pulled up the schematics for the human body and reviewed the biological details. Incredible, he thought. He had not known how utterly different the humans were from them, despite outwardly appearing almost identical to Alteans. The guilt only grew heavier.

"My, my..."

The door swished open suddenly and he turned to find Princess Allura poised in the doorway, eyes dancing over the equipment with glee.

"They look brand new!" she exclaimed, going over to the man and peering at the schematics.

"Well, for the most part they are, Princess. Many of the parts were replaced, the motherboards torn out and properly updated databases installed. It is...quite impressive."

Allura smiled wider, patting his arm. "All the better for the paladins. May I speak with you a moment? I have some...concerns that I think only you can provide insight on."

"Oh?" It had been some time since the princess had come to him for guidance. A knot formed in his stomach as her expression changed from merriment to one of steel.

There was no delicate way to bring the matter up, so Allura did not bother attempting to be diplomatic. Mincing words had gotten them all into a great deal of trouble as of late; there was no place for it now. 

"I would like your opinion on Keith's behavior--as another omega. You understand best what thoughts are in his head and how his nature effects him. I fear he may be pushing himself too hard, but he is a tenacious one."

"He is." Coran agreed, thinking of the young omega. 

He had not seen Keith for several days now; the man had sequestered himself in his room, venturing out very rarely for food. More often than not, Shiro was fetching him meals and whatever trivial items he needed. Acting like a proper alpha to his omega, Coran thought with a warm smile. It was so good to see the two of them not only recovering, but doing so together. Now that he thought about it, he had not seen much of Shiro the prior day either. With Keith in heat, it was easy to surmise where he was hiding...

That was not important at the moment. "What is your concern, Princess? Is there something specific that has you worried about Keith?"

Allura frowned at the floor, balling her hands into fists at her side. Perhaps she was overreacting, but she needed to be certain, before another grave mistake was made, one that they could not come back from. 

"Keith has been...hunting Prince Lotor."

Coran's brows shot up in surprise. "Has he?"

"I'm not entirely certain how he's doing it, but he's been tracking galra activity--specifically Lotor's--with unnerving accuracy. He's managed to get us close enough that I believe we may be ready to attack." She paused, carefully considering her next words. "Is Keith stable enough to face Prince Lotor? Should he have anything to do with this mission at all? I fear--I fear that if he gets too close, his resolve may weaken. Or worse--Lotor will find him and attack him once more."

It was a valid fear and one Coran shared. They had all seen how Keith had crumbled beneath Lotor's cruel attack. That he was growing better was obvious, but for every two steps Keith took forward, he took another step back. It was an endless cycle of recovery and falling back into terror. It was taxing to watch; he could not imagine how mentally and emotionally exhausted Keith must have felt. 

It was not his place to make calls on the health of others. Omega though he was, each omega was different. Keith was a particularly resilient man who displayed few of the traditional omega traits. 

"I think, Princess, you would be better advised to ask that question of the Blades. I wish I could say that, as a fellow omega, I knew his mind and could read what actions he would take, but I can't. It would be better to ask someone who _does_ know his mind."

"Like his doctors." Allura mused aloud.

"Or Shiro."

The princess' eyes brightened momentarily, as if the idea had not occurred to her. If there was anyone who knew Keith well enough to judge his mental state, it would be Shiro. Wounded and healing as he was, Shiro was still the ever practical leader. He would never allow his teammates to place themselves in harm's way. Even less so his mate. 

It was a fine idea, she decided, smile leaping into place. "That is a good idea. Thank you, Coran."

Was it such a grand idea though? Coran had second thoughts as soon as the princess left. It was a sound idea in theory, but it was a suggestion that could easily backfire. Shiro was battling his own demon, a demon who took the form of a feral alpha, crazed on keeping its mate subdued. Serum or no, that drive was still there, buried as it was. Shiro would never allow Keith to partake in the mission, he was certain. All he had done was steer Allura to what would undoubtedly be a firm and resounding 'no'. 

Perhaps it was for the best, he thought, moving to investigate a scanner with half its mechanic guts strewn across the floor. Keeping Keith away from Lotor was likely the best, safest option for all. The issue would be convincing Keith that he ought to remain on the sidelines. That would be a great undertaking and Coran was not so certain that even Shiro's influence as the man's alpha could sway Keith from seeking out his justice.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never send an alpha to do an omega's job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I love the scent of drama in the morning.

He woke yet again to a mound of blankets in his face and a warm cloud of lavender scented steam drifting from the open bathroom door. Pressing his face into the folds of blanket, Shiro inhaled the scent of happy omega and sighed in pure contentment. In the other room, he could hear Keith humming as he scrubbed the residue of last evening's play from his body. He ought to get up and join the man; there was still a good deal of sticky grime clinging to his own flesh that he had been too lazy to clean off the evening before. 

Padding to the bathroom, he paused a moment in the doorway to stare. Keith had his back to him, a latticework of thin scars running down the length of his spine that never failed to send a protective shiver down Shiro's spine. Clouds of lilac colored foam slid down his body as he worked a thick lather into his long black locks. When dry, Shiro knew they would gleam and sift through his fingers like silk threads. Keith had laughed at his fascination when he had finally gotten a hold of the tail of hair and marveled at it, testing its weight and feel, twining it around his fingers and kissing its unruly waves as he undid the pleat. 

"You project too much with your scent." Keith's voice came out soft and singsong beneath the fall of the shower. 

Shiro chuckled, wondering what it was his mate had smelled. Arousal? Infatuation? Love? He supposed all of those were fine things to smell; they were testament to his adoration for his mate. 

Keith turned to him, hair hanging limply down his chest and arms. "Are you coming in?"

"Well, I certainly won't turn down an invitation..."

Shedding his clothing, Shiro slid in beside his mate, grabbing him around the waist and pressing his nose to the crook of his neck. The scrape of his teeth against his mating mark was met with a shallow moan, more of joy than of pleasure. For a long moment, they stood molded together as Shiro mouthed at his mark, sucking and nipping at the red welt. He never wanted it to fade, he wanted it to always be dark and vibrant, a stark reminder to all who saw that this omega was his and he would fight tooth and nail to protect what was his. 

=======================

"You two smell. The same I mean. You smell the same." Lance added that clarification after Shiro raised an arm and prepared to sniff his armpit.

Their wet hair was evidence enough that they had just come from the showers, but the sweet smell of earth flowers clung to Keith and Shiro both like a perfume. It was suspicious, seeing as only Keith had such a scented shampoo. It was not difficult to guess how that had come to pass and a teasing grin crooked Lance's lips.

Keith rolled his eyes, flicking his damp tail of hair over his shoulder. "We used the same shampoo, genius."

"Hmmm, but how does Shiro get to your shampoo, I wonder?"

"If you really wonder, then you're not thinking hard enough, toolbox."

A soft chorus of laughs spread between the paladins as they settled on the couches in the common room, preparing their tablets for the coming meeting. While Pidge pulled up a visual of the local galaxy they were currently patrolling, Lance continued to needle the two leaders, asking a plethora of probing questions the likes of which were just a tad too risque for carefree banter. 

_Some things never change_ , Shiro thought as Keith expertly deflected a rather pointed question about the happenings behind closed doors. Tedious as it was, it was also...refreshing. It felt normal. Slowly, things were returning to the way they were meant to be. 

"So have you fucked yet?"

Keith slammed his palms onto the couch cushion. "Damn it, Lance, do us all a favor and go get laid!"

"I can't; Gris is in an entirely different galaxy and until we get back there I have to live vicariously through you and Shiro. So, have you fucked yet?"

"Why don't you come over here and sniff my ass and find out?"

The room exploded into uproarious laughter. Just to be certain that they all knew Keith spoke in jest, Shiro cleared his throat and made pointed eye contact with Lance. "You are not doing that."

The blue paladin made a hacking sound, as if vomit had gotten caught in his throat. "As if anyone but you would want to!"

It took an embarrassing amount of time to get themselves settled and focused, for them to come together and actually look at the holographic map Pidge had created of the most recent galra activity. What she did not share but what Shiro knew was that all of these locations had been cobbled together through Keith's decisive calculations. However his mate came by this data, Shiro did not know. Maybe he did not want to to know, as any time he thought of the oddity of it, he conveniently found an excuse to speak of some other topic. 

Eleven galra camps glowed ominously on the diagram, occupying the three planets with the richest resources and the most civilians.

"Slave labor." Hunk guessed, pointing out that the inhabitants of the planet possessed a mineral not too unlike the crystals created on the Balmeras. These minerals though were of a highly potent combustable type. A good resource for anyone to have, but not one they wished for the galra to have access to.

A few flicks of her fingers and Pidge had pulled up a number of surveillance footage feeds. As Hunk had aptly guessed, the locals had been herded into camps, the strongest outfitted in digging gear, others lugging giant hatchets and pickaxes around as they chipped at giant boulders brought up from the depths of the caves. It was an all too familiar scene; a once great city razed, overrun by the snakes of the empire, the ominous violet and scarlet glow of empire sigils emblazoned into every visible surface.

Lance drummed his fingers together, staring at the footage of some young townsfolk shoved violently into a vehicle. "So they're forcing the people to mine this volatile ore for them. What's its purpose?"

"Near as I can tell," Pidge said, staring at the footage with an expression of equal distaste, "it can be distilled or worked into fuel for their canons."

"So that's bad." Lance concluded.

"Very bad."

"Look at their armor." Keith said suddenly, pointing to one of the foot soldiers herding the cowering prisoners. "They're wearing Lotor's personal colors."

A murmur of realization passed over them. No few team members looked askance at Keith, wondering if he had heard a word about the ore and civilians or if his focus was entirely on Lotor. It went hand in hand, Keith thought. Get rid of Lotor and the empire crumbled; the galra would scatter, abandon the planets in a desperate attempt to piece together the fractured parts of their thin empire. The coalition was large enough at this point; it was time to take decisive action.

"Lotor is nearby." Keith concluded, not bothering to share the thoughts leading up to his final conclusion.

Hunk made a wary sound. "We can't be sure of that, Keith."

"Those are Lotor's personal soldiers."

"They could just be sent here on a mission." Pidge offered, filtering through the images to check for any additional signs of military presence. There was nothing telling to speak of at first glance.

Keith's resolve did not waver. "He's here."

Almost, Shiro stepped in. _You can't be certain of that_ , he almost said, but paused. When Allura had come to him days before, she had admitted that Keith had an alarmingly unerring ability to track galra movement--in particular, Lotor's movement. They had quietly surmised between the two of them that Keith could somehow tap into his latent galra blood and feel for his kin. Over the years, the man had learned many interesting skills from the Blade of Marmora. Although Keith had never alluded to such a talent, Shiro would not have been surprised to discover it were true. All of these bases that Pidge had video feed of had been discovered with the aid of Keith's intuition. If that did not say something of his mate's abilities, then he did not know what did.

He rested a hand on Keith's curled fist. "Say Lotor is nearby," he began soothingly, smoothing the tension from the air, "what is it we want? It's too early to lure him out. The coalition is still gathering itself together. If we want to take on Lotor, we need the full force of the rebellion."

That thought hadn't crossed Keith's mind. Truthfully, and he loathed to admit it, very little crossed his mind, save a blinding need to seek Lotor out and do onto that monster every injustice the man had done onto him and his mate. It was not how a leader should act, but he was not the leader anymore. Shiro was. The thought was no longer irritating. It was soothing. His mate was back, in the position he was meant to command. 

A strange smile wormed onto his lips as he addressed the others. "We don't need to lure Lotor out--not yet. We only need to know where he is. Once we have his scent, we can track him. He'll never get out of our reach."

Pidge's eyes flicked to Shiro, watching the man grow tense. That was a declaration none of them had expected nor felt comfortable with. Knowing the prince's whereabouts and his actions was key to the rebellion's survival, but if they were floating as close to the empire as Keith claimed, they were treading in dangerous waters. Play with fire too much, and they would get burned. 

"We'll take it slow." Shiro declared after a prolonged silence. "Pidge, monitor those base camps; keep an eye on the activity. If anything strange happens, let us know immediately. Hunk, Lance, you and I are going to go in and do a bit of reconnaissance--give the civilians what aid we can before we upset the galra and risk losing track of Lotor."

It was already a risk, Keith thought with a frown. He fought the urge to lay a hand to his throbbing neck, the mating mark pulsating weakly as Lotor reached for him. The call was weaker than it had been days ago, which meant that either the prince had grown disinterested or had moved farther away. He tended to think the latter; Lotor's interest had never waned. If anything, it had grown over the years. This was his chance to seek the prince out...and his mate was relegating him to the sidelines. 

"And me?" he asked tightly. "What role do I play?"

They all turned to Keith, sitting rigidly, eyes dark and accusing. 

Shiro forced a smile. "I need you here on the ship, Keith."

His mate's weak smile did nothing to pacify him. "I'm sure you do; what purpose do I have?"

Shiro's brain tumbled over itself, desperate to think of a convenient and believable excuse to keep his mate on board the ship. It would be bullshit, they all knew, but he needed to try and save face. "I need you to be my eyes."

"I can be your eyes down on the ground with you."

He was losing this argument quickly. Before another lame excuse could pop out of Shiro's mouth, Lance leaned forward and said cheerfully,

"Just let us go in alone first. I mean, we don't know who's down there. For all we know, there could be a bunch of those alphas you roughed up. They'll never forget your face and if they see you strolling around, they're gonna know something is up."

They all stared. That was one of Lance's more logical arguments in recent days. In fact, even Keith had a difficult time thinking of a rebuttal. Though he highly doubted that there would be any alphas he had previously hunted, he could not say for certain that there would not be. He had gone after quite a few in his working days...

"Fine. I'll stay."

As they filed out of the common room, Keith stomping off first and heading to the training hall, Shiro drifted to Lance's side and muttered a deep-felt thanks. The probability of Keith taking matters to argumentative heights was unlikely...but he wanted to avoid the possibility at all costs. 

Lance clapped a hand on his shoulder as the man began trailing after Keith; Shiro's new habit. "Let's talk sometime." he called after Shiro, to which the man nodded, saluting, before running toward the training deck.

==================

For all the strange tides of change wafting through the castle, Lance had to admit that nothing had truly changed. He supposed the old adage of 'the more things change, the more they stay the same' had a grain of truth to it. They were older now, wiser, harder and colder, with miles of life experience on them, and yet some things he could always count on to remain the same. Shiro would always be the level headed, practical leader, Hunk was always shielding his genius through jokes (a trait they both shared), Pidge never ceased to surprise him, and Keith--Keith could always be found in the training hall when you needed him.

When the door swooshed open, there Keith was, meandering around the oval room, following the guiding lines of a track. It was far less activity than Lance was used to seeing the man partake in, but Keith had been tired as of late. Nonstop heat would do that to a guy, he supposed. Having a horny alpha mate there to service his needs probably helped Keith's fatigue very little. In fact, it probably did the opposite, he thought with a snort. 

He waited for Keith to circle around to him before falling into stride with the man, tucking his hands behind his back as they walked. 

"Morning jog?" he teased.

Keith snorted. "Just staying active. The doctors say that's important."

"You're not still sick, are you?"

"That depends on what you mean." Keith shrugged his delicate shoulders, refraining from smiling tiredly. His stomach had been more tolerable towards his medicine the past week and Hunk's new dietary plan for him helped immensely, but every now and then he found himself gagging or heaving. "It's exhausting."

"Damn." Lance murmured. 

"I'll say." At least Shiro was there to offer his support and hold his hair back when needed. 

They walked in silence for a time, comfortable in the companionable silence. Never before had Lance had a friend as reserved as Keith. It had troubled him at first, trying to decipher when the man was happy, content, or tense. The air between them often guided him. So often he would glance at Keith and find him staring somberly at nothing in particular, gaze lost in the middle ground, but the air surrounding him was calm. Silent companionship was not something Lance was used to. He had learned though. 

At the moment, Keith was at ease, mind elsewhere, quietly musing to himself about Lance could only guess. 

"Is it...Shiro?"

Keith glanced at him, brow raised. "What?"

"I'm trying to guess what you're thinking. Given the recent number of PDAs we've all caught you two in, I'd say my guess is probably correct."

Had there been so many instances where he and Shiro had been caught? Maybe Lance was making a mountain out of a molehill, looking too much into the meaning of a deep embrace or parting kiss. 

"I _was_ thinking of Shiro. And since we're discussing him--have you apologized to him yet?"

Lance scowled, thrusting his bottom lip out in a pout. "No. I've been meaning to talk to him, but you can blame yourself for how long it's taken."

"Me?" Keith laughed.

"Yes, you. You have that man whipped. Every time one of us goes to talk to him, he's either wrapped up in your nest thing or he's running off to find you. It's like he has no focus if you're not around. He's got Keith on the brain!"

It was difficult for Keith to keep from bursting into laughter. He had noticed similar clinging tendencies in his mate. Whenever they were together, in public or private, Shiro's hands were always on him. Latched onto his waist, arm around his shoulder, pressed against his back--he could not escape Shiro's hold. Not that he wanted to...

Clearing his throat, Keith explained, "That's the heat making him more...clingy than usual. The smells get to him, mess with the primal part of him. He's just being a protective alpha."

"You mean a horny alpha."

"That too." They went hand in hand, really.

They took another lap around the track before Keith's steps began to grow sluggish. He had been at it for an hour before Lance had joined. An hour walk should not have winded him so, but it was a sad reality he had to face. Until his heats began to regulate normally, he would be low on energy. It was time for a break. 

Lance tossed him a vitamin infused water pouch from the cooler as he slouched against the wall, gathering his energy. Seven laps per hour. Better than the five he had been at, but not good enough. 

"Can I...ask you something?"

Keith looked up to find Lance staring hard at the floor, his mouth pinched. It was the expression of someone with heavy thoughts on their mind and that did not bode well. 

"In a minute." Keith sighed. "Let me finish this up and then we can catch another lap before calling it quits."

Lance nodded, standing quietly while the man savored his drink, smacking his lips together loudly when the last drop had been sucked from the pouch. With a helping hand, Keith was back on his feet and they were walking again, slow as snails. Lance looked concerned again, but Keith knew that it had nothing to do with the pace.

"You want to know why I didn't tell you." he guessed.

Lance flinched. "Well....why didn't you?"

Keith was silent. He wished he had an answer. Months of pondering the same question had yielded few answers. "Shame, I suppose. Guilt. Fear. Anger." 

He had thought that perhaps there was some deeper meaning to his silence, some hard truth that he had been running from for ages and he was now forced to confront in the wake of his assault. The more Keith thought, the more he was inclined to think there was not anything deep about the matter. He was ashamed to have his honor tainted. He was guilty that he had been so weak and had betrayed his mate and all the rebellion stood for. Any rational person could guess at his motives and hit the mark. 

"I just--don't understand." Lance whispered, attempting to sound soft and soothing. If there was any hint of accusation in his tone, he would never forgive himself.

"There isn't much to get. Lotor attacked. I wanted to pretend it never happened. I thought I could handle it." He frowned at his feet. "I couldn't."

Maybe it was that simple, but Lance was still unsure. Something still didn't feel right. _How_ had it happened? When had it happened? When had Lotor found the opportunity to do something so heinous? Surely, Keith would have been able to call for backup at the time of the attack. The questions came tumbling out of his mouth in a waterfall and he was unable to stopper them. 

Keith stared at his friend, listening patiently and offering a sympathetic look. Why was _he_ the one looking so sympathetic, Lance wondered. Keith was the one hurt and yet he was the one crying. Keith had been hurt, and yet Keith looked to pity all of them for how hard they were taking the news. What type of justice was that, when the victim had to sooth others in the wake of the damning reveal? It was bullshit and he hated Lotor a thousand times more than he had before. When Lance's eyes began to water, Keith rolled his eyes and pulled the man into an embrace.

"Look, I don't--I don't want to talk about it. But I give you permission to ask Shiro. He can't tell you everything, but he can tell you the important parts."

The man tried to take a step back, but Lance refused to allow it, pulling him closer and curling his fingers in the thick fabric of Shiro's borrowed hoodie. Lance burrowed his face into his shoulder, sobbing violently. What Lance was weeping over, Keith did not know. Friendship still puzzled him.

He pat soothing circles into the man's back. "What are you bawling for? My lost honor?"

Lance sniffled, a loud, moist sound. "For--everything." His voice cracked. "For not protecting you. For everything you lost. For Shiro."

That last regret they could agree on, Keith thought. He had mourned Shiro for three years before his mate had returned to him, more broken and beautiful than he had ever been. He wanted to protect Shiro. He wanted to protect them all. The first sob came out as little more than a hiccup, a cute little chirp that could have been nothing at all. But Keith knew what it was. As soon as he recognized the sound of his crying and the familiar feeling of pricking behind his eyes, he gave in. Why hold it in any longer? Lance had offered his shoulder and together they cried.

===================

It was an interesting reversal of roles that saw Keith sitting at the console for the black paladin with Pidge at his back, monitoring the forced casual mingling of Lance and Shiro at a local canteen. As his mate had declared, they moved slow, infiltrating the town slowly so as not to make cause an upset. They had been at it nearly two weeks when someone had the good sense to propose that they start working on the galra soldiers. Were he still leading, he would not have waited so long; Shiro had not appeared too pleased with his admonishment for how slowly their objective had been moving along. He thought perchance this mission was only agreed to as a method to placate him--so long as he remained aboard the ship. Shiro never budged on that stipulation. 

Even had he wished to go, practicality prevented it. His heat was a day or two away and his scent was piquing. Walking into a bar of alphas in such a condition would be welcoming trouble. So Keith had to sit back and watch the others blunder through the mission. It was cringe worthy, how the two paladins stood out among a crowd of mostly armed and armored galra soldiers. No one had raised a weapon towards the two yet, but Keith suspected that had more to do with curiosity than the bad disguises the men wore.

He had watched earlier from bed as Shiro pulled the form fitting pants up his hips, reaching down to adjust himself with an uncomfortable grunt. When the man was fully dressed, Keith could not help but chuckle at the sight of his mate in what he presumed to be bounty hunter attire. To his eyes, it just look liked Shiro, wearing a costume.

"Are you ready?" he had teased.

Shiro glanced at him, brows drawn, an uncomfortable look upon his face. "Ready for the mission, not ready for this get up."

"It doesn't really suit you."

Of course, that had been before they had seen Lance in his ridiculous, overly flashy outfit. It was Coran's idea, the man claimed defensively as Keith and Shiro laughed. Having seen that get up, Shiro's disguise suddenly did not look so ludicrous. 

Keith chuckled again, leaning his cheek into his curled fist. His mind wandered as the evening wore on. Nothing of particular note was happening. What little banter the two paladins took part in was brief, stilted, and often gleaned nothing of use from the patrons. Keith could not tell if they were deliberately avoiding asking the right questions or if both Shiro and Lance were just that bad at subtle interrogation tactics. There was more to get out of these soldiers; someone, somewhere, knew something.

His eyes bounced around the screen, scanning the armor for symbols of ranking, searching the faces for familiarity. They just needed to find the right target. That person would be the doorway to finding Lotor. But who was it?

===================

A tedious hour had passed and Lance was growing restless. For how magnificent his gift of gab was...subtlety was not a talent he had been blessed with. While Shiro sauntered off to try and cozy up to a group of intimidating looking lizard men, he leaned against the bar, eyeing some of the smaller patrons. He was under no disillusion; he was there as backup, not as the main player. Left to his own devices, he either would have slid off with the pretty hostess or gotten bored after several minutes and asked a far too pointed question that would tip the soldiers off to what he was truly after.

From the looks of things, Shiro was not doing much better though. The man was frowning at the lizard men, face pinched. They were getting nowhere.

"Let's call this off." Lance suggested when the man walked back to join him at the bar. "This is getting us nowhere."

Shiro huffed in disappointment. "I'm inclined to agree."

"Quitters." Keith's voice crackled in their earpieces. "Look over to the right, by the glowing fish sign. Look familiar?"

The two men turned their heads, searching the crowd. Shiro saw no one of note, but Lance inhaled a sharp breath, coughing out a curse.

"Shit man, it's Pryim."

"Who?"

Lance pointed, indicating a tall soldier sitting heavily in a chair that appeared at least two sizes too small for his bulking body. The man was all muscle, harsh violet scales boasting a thousand battle scars; all of which he wore proudly, Shiro noted. That man wore confidence like a true soldier. No, he thought with a bitter twist of his lips, like an arena champion. 

"How do you know him?" he snapped through clenched teeth.

Lance glanced at him, curious over the tense reaction. "He's one of Lotor's commanders. One of his _better_ commanders, I should say. He's been a pain in our ass since--we'll, since you were gone. I don't know how many of our missions he thwarted. Damn, one time he even captured Keith and almost handed him over to Lotor before we--"

The gift of gab had backfired again. Before he could finish, Shiro had growled, lips pulling back into an animalistic snarl as he stomped towards the table where Pryim sat. Keith's voice muttered unhappily in his ear, but Lance did not hear exactly what the man had said. He jumped into line behind Shiro, placing a restraining hand on the man's shoulder as Shiro forced his way into Pryim's sight.

The galra looked insulted as Shiro took a seat across from him, eyes narrow and challenging. Were they to come to blows, Shiro knew he would be in for a true battle. The soldier was at least a foot taller than him, perhaps more. The rippling muscles of his arms left no doubt in Shiro's mind that he could and would be easily lifted and tossed across the room. No matter, he thought; if it came to blows, he would use the man's bulk against him. 

"I hear you know Prince Lotor." Shiro growled.

Lance blanched, digging his fingers into the man's shoulder. "Dude, subtly, remember?"

"Fuck subtlety." Anyone that had a problem with Keith-- _his mate_ \--had a problem with him. 

Recognition came suddenly to the commander's eyes and he bellowed a laugh, grabbing his drink and throwing back a heavy gulp. "Paladins? Your disguises could use a little more work."

Lance's lips twitched. "So could your face, but we're working with what we've got."

Pryim ignored the jest, golden eyes settling on Shiro. "The blue paladin and...you must be the black paladin. The old black paladin. Or would that be the _new_ black paladin? We haven't seen or heard of the bitch in months."

Shiro grit his teeth, feeling his bionic hand warming. "We're both black paladins."

The commander laughed again, finishing his drink in several deep slurps. Slamming the empty flask onto the table, he wiped the foam from his upper lip and sneered. His lips curled in a mocking grin, revealing a cracked canine. 

"Two black paladins, huh? Sounds like a waste of a good breeding bitch. Then again, I don't see any little Voltron whelps around. Maybe the problem is you then, old black paladin?"

"If you speak about him like that--"

"You should have left him with Lotor. He knows how to treat a bitch. You've allowed your whore a little too much freedom, running around, thinking he's the leader of Voltron, the head of the rebellion. He would need an alpha as strong as Lotor to put him in his proper place. Something you obviously can't do."

Pain sparked in Shiro's leg as his fingers came to life, violet energy singing in his bionic limb. It took a great amount of willpower not to leap up and plunge his fist straight into the man's smug face. More than ever he focused on finding Lotor. He would deliver the prince--and his disrespectful underlings--to Keith's feet to exact what revenge he willed. The alpha was calling for blood again and he felt the urge to give in to it. 

"Tell me where Lotor is."

Pryim chortled, as if Shiro's anger were the most amusing thing in the galaxy, unaware of how he was courting danger . "Maybe I will. Why don't you tell me first how your bitch likes it? Does he prefer to take your knot when he's on his back, or bent over on all fours like the breeding mare he is?"

================

Keith growled, getting up from the console. This was getting them nowhere and soon he knew it would devolve into a barroom brawl. Again. He should have expected it. When it came to matters of pride involving his mate, Shiro had very little self control. It was one of the few weak spots the man had. And how easily Pryim had honed in on and mercilessly attacked it. It was a cheap tactic, but one that worked.

With a deep sigh, he made for the exit, shaking his head in exasperation.

Pidge turned to watch him leave with a wary expression. "Are you alright?"

Bless her for her concern. "I'm fine." he sang back, placing his hands on his hips. He was not bothered by the lewd jabs of a muscle-headed peon of Lotor's. He had heard worse. 

"Where are you going?"

He chuckled in response. There was really only one place for him to go. He was needed.

"Never send an alpha to do an omega's job." 

She thought she had an inkling what that might mean. If it did in fact mean what she thought it did, they would all be in for an interesting evening. Settling back into her spot, she tapped her fingertips against the keys distractedly, willing Shiro to remain calm for just a few minutes more.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a strange sense of deja vu surrounding them all, except this time Shiro was not the one balking in the face of interruption. how the tables had turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, chapter 25. 
> 
> Since our new season is coming out next week and I have to wait until after work to see it, next chapter will probably be up on Saturday instead. 
> 
> Onward! Lemme know how ya like!

As far as awkward silences went--this was the worst Lance had yet experienced in his life. Sitting side by side with Shiro in a cramped, beat up space pod that jounced every few minutes as they hit a pocket of turbulence, smashing shoulder to shoulder each time, was not what he considered to be a fun time. The tension was thick between them. Not as thick as it had once been, but it was still thick enough that he thought he would be able to cut it, should he try. 

It was the perfect time to talk and make amends, he knew. The communication line to the castle was closed; it was just him and Shiro. There was plenty he wanted to apologize for, many things he had planned on saying. He had not lied when he told Keith that he had planned on speaking to the man but had not yet found opportunity to do so. Funny how all those well thought out words disappeared when he at last had the opportunity to speak. 

He cleared his throat overtly, desperately thinking of some way to break the silence. Shiro's eyes slid his way momentarily, though the man said nothing.

"So..." Lance paused, fumbling for words, "Uhm..."

Shiro turned his eyes back towards the radar. 

After a minute had passed, Lance tried again. "You're getting kind of fat."

" _What_?"

Wrong icebreaker. The scandalized look Shiro shot him was both bemused and deadly. 

Lance kicked himself mentally before throwing his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "It's a compliment! I mean--you looked like a stick when you came back. It's to be expected; it's not like the galra feed their prisoners well. I just mean--it--you look good."

Shiro sighed. _Take the compliment._ Lance was trying. He was grateful for it, even if the man was mining his words. "Thanks."

There was no easy way to go about this, Lance decided after another prolonged silence. Talking would not be easy. He had to dive in and allow whatever was to happen unfold as it would. There were several ways he could plunge on and he took a moment to debate which would be the easiest to start with. None--he came to that quick conclusion. He would start then with the issue that weighed most heavily on his mind. He had apologies galore...but he also had many, many questions and he could no longer ignore them. 

"Keith didn't want to talk about what happened--between him and Lotor. Not that I can blame him." He paused, glancing to Shiro. "He told me that I should talk to you, that you could fill in some of the blanks."

Shiro's mouth tightened. He had been warned this conversation might come up at some point. Why right that moment, he didn't know. There were better times for this discussion...but it was a conversation he supposed they needed to have. Everyone still had questions. 

He tapped his fingers against the gears, carefully measuring out the information he had a right to divulge and what were very much Keith's secrets to keep. Wetting his lips with his tongue, Shiro coughed, as if clearing his throat. 

"You're asking what happened between Keith and Lotor?"

"Sort of?" Lance honestly did not know what he was specifically asking. "I just don't understand how it happened. Keith was never captured. Lotor didn't have an opportunity to do something like _that_. But I guess he did... I just want to know _how_."

Of course Lance wanted to know the most difficult part to explain. Non-natured often had difficulty understanding the nuances of relationships between natured. Even years together, Lance and Hunk could still be caught off guard by entirely normal alpha and omega behavior. Shiro predicted this would be a messy conversation.

"How it happened-" Shiro paused, struggling to find where to begin. "You know Lotor marked Keith."

"Yeah, we were there when it happened. Keith was pretty torn up about it. Again, not that I can blame him; it's an ugly scar.

Scar. Was that all the others thought it was? Shiro growled softly. "It's not just a scar, Lance. That's a mating mark. It's a physical representation of a bond."

"A...mating mark?"

"Yes. Lotor forced a mating bond with Keith."

"But...he's mated to you."

Admittedly, Shiro had never before heard of an omega having two mates. He supposed it must be possible, unheard of or not. Perhaps his own bond with Keith had been so weak that Lotor had easily been able to imprint on Keith. Whatever the case, the mark was there.

"I don't know how he did it, but Lotor left his mark. He's _technically_ Keith's mate." Though he loathed to say it. 

Lance took a long moment to digest that news. Keith mated to Lotor. Unwillingly mated to the prince of the galra empire. Mated with Lotor. With Lotor. No wonder Keith had nearly gone insane. 

"Oh, man..." Lance caressed the ridge of his forehead in distress. "But when did it happen? I get that Lotor had some sort of claim on him, but we were never close enough to--"

"Lotor called for him and Keith went." 

Lance stared. "Lotor called."

"Yes."

"And Keith... _went_?"

Shiro ground his teeth together, fighting back a growl. "Yes."

"Wha--he cheated on you?"

If there were breaks in the pod, Shiro would have slammed down on them, stopped them mid flight, and flown them to the nearest flat surface to drag Lance from the ship and pummel him. _Calm down_ , he told himself, soothing his alpha side, who had leaped up, snarling. Lance was confused, he didn't understand. It was natural for non-natured. He had to be patient and explain.

"He did not _cheat_." Shiro hissed through clenched teeth, gripping the gears painfully tight. "He had no choice. When a mated omega is called by their alpha, they must go. _He had no choice_."

"No choice." Lance echoed. He was struggling to come to terms with what he was being told. The idea that Keith was mated to Lotor was difficult enough to swallow, but that he was forced by nature to attend to every whim the prince had? It was near impossible for him to wrap his head around, though he knew from observing Keith and Shiro's interactions together that it was true. Omegas always bent to the will of their alphas. There was no choice... "God damn..."

Shiro was thrumming angrily, fighting against the howling of his alpha side. Reminded of the injustices perpetrated against his mate, the alpha demanded blood. He grit his teeth hard, trying not to dwell on some of the darker thoughts he had concerning the prince. "Lotor could have a sword in hand, threatening to kill Keith, and if he called, Keith would still go. There.is.no.choice."

Lance chewed on that revelation for the remainder of the flight, thoughts of apologizing and having a heart-to-heart with his leader forgotten. No choice. The words repeated in his mind like a mantra. Was there absolutely no choice, no way around Lotor's call? The way Shiro presented it, it sounded less like a call and more like brainwashing or puppeteering. That his friend could literally be staring his own death in the face and be compelled towards it was...terrifying.

He tried to imagine it, tried to envision the scene and place himself in Keith's shoes. Alone, mate long gone and presumed dead, sworn enemy's mate mark scarred on his skin, and then forced to go to that same hated enemy. How had Keith done it, he wondered? How could anyone willingly plod along to their demise? Willingly was the key word there, Lance supposed. Like hell Keith would go willingly. He would have struggled tooth and nail against Lotor's pull. 

Try as he might, Lance knew he could not adequately imagine the scenario. He could never fully imagine the terror Keith must have felt, walking into Lotor's arms, knowing full well what would happen. He lifted a hand to his face, massaging his closed eyelid as he fought against a wave of nausea. 

Stealing a glance to Shiro, he found the man's expression cold and hard. That seemed appropriate to Lance, seeing as he had just mortally offended the man by suggesting Keith had willingly gone to Lotor at his call. Poor Keith. Poor Shiro. If this mission went according to plan, Lotor had better watch himself; Keith hell bent on revenge was one thing. Shiro, a protective alpha with a grudge, was twice as worse. He was deadly. Frankly, Lance hoped they rooted out Lotor's whereabouts and hunted him down. He was finding that he too was just a little thirsty for that tyrant's blood.

============

That evening could not get any worse in Lance's opinion. He had hoped that once they were safely entrenched in their mission the air would clear and allow them to focus on the task at hand. The Lotor shaped cloud in their minds would dispel and they would put all trivial matters aside for the sake of the mission. ...of course, there was nothing trivial about what Lotor had done, so he supposed as an after thought that that had been a foolish hope. Happy as the couple appeared, Lance surmised that the dark memories of Lotor's torture were never far from either Keith or Shiro's minds. A mission, he had hoped, would give Shiro something to focus on, other than his mate. There were so many men to interrogate and so many ways that their mission could run afoul, their thoughts _had_ to be on point. 

To his credit, Shiro was ever the attentive soldier, pushing all other thoughts from his mind as best he could while he worked the crowd. Even in the face of looming defeat, they maintained their focus. The mission was a decided failure, but it had gone off without a hitch. Or it _had_ , until Keith had pointed out Pryim. His blabbering about Pryim taking issue with Keith's existence had been a rookie mistake. Lance only had himself to blame for the position they were in. 

The resulting stand off between Shiro and Pryim was painful to witness. Pryim was tedious enough with the amount of venom he spat, but Lance could see that Shiro's temper was curdling. The alpha was growing restless. Shit would hit the fan soon, he thought with a worried glance to the door--checking their escape routes. Shiro had accepted as many barbs against Keith's honor as he could stomach. From his vantage behind the man, Lance could see that his bionic arm was activated, aglow in violet light, warning him of impending danger. A brawl was inevitable. Depending on how many men Pryim had at his side, Lance knew he would be dragged into it as well. They would probably get their asses beaten. 

No, he grumbled inwardly, the night could not get any worse. At least, that was what he thought before the bar door swung open in a wild flourish and a hush fell over the rest of the patrons. Looking up, he choked on a mouthful of spit.

It had just gotten worse. 

=====

Keith would give his friends this: they had judged his measurements with surprising accuracy. Discarding his months old outfit of Shiro's old sweat pants and hoodie felt like shedding a layer of skin. He had grown comfortable in those clothes, latching onto the residual scent--or at least the memory of that scent--from when Shiro was sane. Rarely had he changed out of them, save the necessary washing day or to crawl back into his paladin suit. He tried to calculate the many months he had spent wearing those clothes like a uniform and came up with some five months. He imagined there must be quite a stink attached to them, though no one had made complaint. 

Throwing the ball of clothing into the laundry chute while also tossing his soiled, heat-scented underwear onto Shiro's side of the bed for later amusement, he rooted through the selection of new clothing to find something fitting for his task. There was nothing so alluring as his prior hunting outfits, but there was only oh so much teasing he ought to do, what with his alpha returned...and likely to be standing right there. 

_These will do_ , he decided, pulling a pair of form fitting black pants up his hips. He traced his fingers over the thick band of red fabric that ran from waist to ankle, a colorful but frivolous addition. At least he would be pleasing to the eye, Keith thought, pulling a matching red V neck over his head and tugging it into place. The fabric was a bit thin and he could see the peaks of his milk-swollen nipples peeking through. Shiro would not like sharing those, so he grabbed a black faux-leather crop vest and zipped that into place. 

After lacing a pair of knee high boots into place, he took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. They were all wearing costumes that evening. Keith laughed, tugging at the hem of the vest sitting right above his navel. Bare arms were in once more. He needed only one more thing and he would be ready. Grabbing up his scabbard and slinging it into place, he did not bother to hide his grin. It felt good to be useful once more. It was time to stretch his legs and let it be known that the former head of Voltron was still very much active in the rebellion.

=======

He struggled a moment to keep the apprehension from his face as he stepped into the bar and was met with a sweeping silence. His scent had preceded him, Keith knew, and he fought back memories of the time he had gone on a hunt, not realizing that he was entering heat, and unwittingly stirred up the patrons. This would not be like that time. He had been careless that time. And, more importantly, this time his alpha was there to protect him. With that comforting assurance in mind, he strode past the gawking horde of soldiers, tactfully ignoring the calls and growls of interest. Lance spotted him first, brows shooting up in surprise before furrowing and a curse slipped from his mouth. He wisely took a step back.

Shiro was scowling fiercely at Pryim, his arm glowing angrily as he fought to remain poised. The man's temper would not hold, not with Pryim viciously digging into his soft spots. The commander was a relentless bastard and Shiro had revealed his weakness. Keith decided he needed to intervene. Slapping a hand onto the table, he leaned into the alphas' space, demanding their attention. Shiro's face contorted in shock, somehow having ignored his scent as he approached. 

"Hello, darling." Keith purred at the man, turning his attention then to Pryim. "Prim."

The galra man snarled, correcting him with a hiss. "Pry-im." 

The commander bristled once more at Keith's dismissive hum, opening his mouth to snap some insult, but was entirely ignored as Keith turned his attention back to his mate. A steady look passed between them, words, accusations, pleas, all moving between them unspoken. It was rather impressive to witness and Lance recalled watching over the years as his teammates' relationship transcended simple affection to a far more intimate knowledge of one another, to the point where words were not always needed. It was a useful skill in instances such as this.

Whatever it was Keith was trying to communicate though was not being received well. Shiro pinned him with a stern expression, posture rigid, shoulders stiff. The alpha was not budging. The power play was not going without notice. Keith's eyes flicked away briefly, trying to catch a glimpse of the gawking patrons, to count how many were staring and judge how many might approach. He was in a volatile position and his mate's stubbornness was not helping. Too much longer and people would begin to think Shiro was not interested. A disinterested alpha would mean he was free game.

That idea dawned on Shiro abruptly. A body shifted just a tad too close to Keith, accompanied by an appreciative growl, and he leaped to his feet, snarling threateningly. The hint was taken and the man backed off while Keith took the opportunity to steal his seat. It would be harder to get at him with Keith sitting, a fact that was not lost on Shiro. For good measure though, he stood directly behind his mate, leaning his arms on the chair back and scowling at anyone that so much as looked at his mate.

Pryim grinned at the sight, scoffing. "The bitch has you whipped."

Shiro growled again, fingers tightening on the chair. A bit more pressure and the metal would cave beneath his fingertips. He wasn't opposed to the display of aggression. He was growing tired of hearing that word associated with Keith. 

For Keith's part, he was unmoved. Thirty years of being called a bitch had hardened him. The slur had lost all meaning. To be sure, he was still surprised when diplomats condescended to use the term and let their true characters be known, but the shock was not of a personal nature. He was too used to being callously summed up as little more than the bitch of Voltron. It worked in his favor, he thought, leaning his cheek into his palm and smiling benignly at Pryim.

"I was unaware alphas who cared for their mates were so disregarded by the galra." he said casually, smile never faltering. "I suppose I'm not that shocked, given your type."

" _My_ type?" Pryim huffed.

"Unintelligent peons who lack the ability to think and act for themselves."

"You little--"

"Which brings me around to the entire reason we're here: where is your master? Where is Lotor?"

" _bitch_!"

Sparks erupted on the table as Shiro's fully activated palm slammed onto the surface. His free hand gripped Keith's shoulder protectively as he bared his teeth.

"Call him that one more time," he warned, "and you'll be dealing with me."

Keith laughed. The sound slipped past his lips before he could stop it--then again, he did not know if he wanted to stop it. Pryim look positively scandalized at the sound. This 'meeting' was meant to crush his esteem and remind him of his place, Keith surmised. Alas for Pryim, he had learned not to care too much what others thought of him. The opinions of tyrants meant less to him than dirt. 

"Frankly, if a piece of trash such as yourself thinks highly enough of me to call me a bitch, I'm sure I should be flattered. I see I can get under your skin, Prim; does it bother you that you can't get under mine?"

"My name is Pryim!" the man bellowed, following his outburst with a wad of saliva spat onto the ground beside them. 

Keith's smile never wavered. He knew it infuriated the man. Shiro's bionic hand cooled, sliding from the table to settle possessively on his hip. 

"Fucking bitch. You think you're going to win anything, sitting there pretty, leaking your shit smelling slick all over the place while your alpha drools all over you?"

Keith drooped his eyelids. "You really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty enough to lick the mud and shit from my boots! You're nothing but a whore! Does your mate know how you give yourself to every other alpha who shows interest? One sniff and you spread your legs like a slut."

Keith's eyes slid towards Shiro, who stood trembling in barely contained rage. There wasn't an ounce of truth to that slander, but Keith did not want the notion to take root in his mate's mind. 

"You wish that were the case." he murmured dismissively, pressing his palm over Shiro's hand. 

Dismissive though he tried to be, Keith knew that he had not been flippant enough. He cared what Shiro thought of him and it showed. Pryim immediately recognized the fact and grinned, eyes darting between the two of them as he considered where to attack first. _Just stay calm_ , Keith willed his mate silently. Words were just words. They did not have any effect on them. Insulting though it was to be deemed the bitch of Voltron, that was all it was: an insult. The mutterings of a disgruntled galra nobody held no sway over the coalition. 

But Keith had miscalculated. Perhaps he was not such an interesting target to Pryim. They had bantered back and forth for years. As much personal amusement as the man got from calling him a bitch, it was an old tactic, one that failed to garner a response any longer. Few things Pryim said moved Keith. Shiro, however, was new territory, a new victim to prod and belittle. It would not take much torment for the man to crack, a fact which Keith inwardly cringed at.

When Pryim's eyes swung towards the alpha, leaning heavily over his shoulder, Keith braced himself. What venom could he possibly spit?

"Do you know," Pryim began calmly, a twisted smile on his face, "what Lotor did to your precious protective alpha while he was held captive?"

The reaction was instantaneous; Shiro roared, bionic hand bursting to life once more. Keith yelped, jerking away from the touch. In his rage, Shiro did not notice his mate's pained cry. 

"Don't you fucking talk about me!" he bellowed.

The smile on Pryim's face grew wider. His reptilian eyes slid back towards Keith. "I can tell you what happened to your beloved alpha. I'm sure you were so worried about him. Why, you might have even thought him dead, he was gone so long!"

Keith's mask slipped and he flinched His mouth curled, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat. His mourning had been well-known across the universe. He did not tolerate being mocked in that regard. Still, he fought the snarl back, only allowing himself to narrow his eyes slightly. 

"Do you want to know what happened?" Pryim asked cheerily, pausing for dramatic effect, drinking in the unhappy looks from the three paladins. "Absolutely nothing."

A beat of silence passed. Keith struggled not to turn his head and look questioningly at his mate. It was what Pryim wanted and he would be damned if he so easily gave the bastard what he wanted. 

"Nothing?" Lance repeated, incredulously. "The hell does that mean? Like hell nothing happened! We saw him acting like a feral--"

"Lance!" Shiro snapped, turning a ferocious, burning look onto the soldier. "Shut up!"

"You didn't tell them that part, did you, paladin?" Pryim mocked. "I bet they thought that you were tortured for years on end, starved, beaten, forced to perform in the slave rings again. Is that what you let them think? I suppose I can't blame you for lying to your own mate. It doesn't sound nearly as heroic if you tell them that all you _really_ did was sleep, eat, and shit like a lazy pet for three years."

"Shut up!" Shiro roared, face boiling in anger or embarrassment. He did not know which nor did he have the focus to decipher why he was reacting so violently. All Shiro truly knew was that he was enraged and the alpha was slipping free. 

"You are no hero, you pathetic, worthless, broken paladin sh--"

A flash of violet light rent the space between them as Keith pulled his blade from its scabbard, willing it into its dagger form before plunging it into Pryim's hand. The commander howled, tirade cut short. He made to reach over and yank the blade free, but Shiro lunged forward, pinning the man to his seat with the unprecedented strength of his bionic limb. 

"That's enough." Keith growled, grinding the blade down further, until the tip thunked against the surface of the table. He took dark delight in Pryim's pained scowling. What little pleasure he could get from his score, Keith would take. The aggressive shifting of the gathered crowd did not slip past his notice; it was time for them to make their exit. "Tell Lotor, as I know you will, that contrary to popular belief, the black paladins of Voltron are both very much alive and well. Tell him that we are coming for him and we will dismantle his empire, no matter what underhanded methods he employs."

Pryim growled, spitting onto the table.

Keith twisted the hilt of his blade savagely. "And tell Lotor that I'm looking for him."

"Don't worry, _bitch_ ; he'll find you."

It was time to deliver on his promise, Shiro thought, releasing the man a split second before balling his bionic hand into a fist and sending the commander flying backwards with a strike to the face. A dozen other soldiers shot to their feet, grabbing weapons and howling in outrage. At his back, he heard Lance unholster his pistol. Keith's blade grew to sword length once more.

"Time to go, dear." his mate murmured, jumping to his feet.

Shiro growled a warning at the hostile crowd. "Agreed. Lance, clear the path to the door."

The man laughed, raising his pistol high and blasting a light fixture free. "Gladly!"

The sea of bodies parted as the fixture came crashing down, a clear path opening for them. They darted for the door, dodging swiping arms and weapons. A wad of spit landed on Shiro's cheek and he growled, resisting the urge to turn and beat the offender. 

As they ran, a hand shot out and grabbed Keith by the wrist, yanking him aside and throwing him onto a nearby table. His stomach collided with the surface, rumbling angrily in protest as his evening medication bubbled in his belly. He tried to twist, hoping he could vomit in the attacker's face, but his head was forced back down, another hand roughly pulling at his clothing. Finger crept past his waistband, curling to find the spot of growing wetness between his cheeks. He choked on a growl, kicking instinctively in a wild frenzy to free himself. 

It might have worked; Keith would never know--nor did he care to know. A warm splash of blood flecked the side of his face a moment before the scent of burned flesh reached his nose. Shiro's arm, he thought distractedly, the offending hands ripped from his body as the wounded--possibly dead--man was thrown aside. Shiro's arm came around him, strong and protective, pulling him close. 

Somehow they made it free of the angry press of snarling soldiers. Lance shouted from a distance away, waving wildly at his pod before taking off. There was a familiar sense of deja vu as Shiro herded him into their own pod, yanking on the gears and commanding the ship to life. Keith shifted uncomfortably in his seat, groaning unhappily.

Shiro's eyes slid to him, mouth a thin, worried line. "You're alright?" he asked quietly.

"...fine."

"He didn't...touch you, did he?"

Keith snorted. "You aren't blind; his fingers were in my ass, Shiro."

The alpha's knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on the gears. He continually sent nervous glances at his mate, watching as Keith twisted and writhed miserably in his seat. He had taken a wound, Shiro thought worriedly. He could feel his own temple throbbing in pain from a hit, but it was superficial. Someone had their fingers inside his mate. Given the size and cruelty of those digits, Keith could be badly hurt. Fear tempered his indignation.

"Don't worry, baby; we'll be at the castle soon. I'll get you to the medical bay."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "The medical bay?"

"I can tell you're hurt."

Hurt. Keith mulled that word over in his mind, pondering the thoughts attached to it. He was hurt in a hundred ways, but he thought perhaps he and his mate had differing ideas of what constituted as hurt. When the man reached over and settled a hand on his knee, crooning to try and calm him, realization clicked in his brain and he laughed loudly. Shiro jolted in alarm.

"Shiro, you are such an alpha. I'm not _hurt_ , I'm in heat!"

"Heat." Shiro echoed, subtly sniffing the air. With his mind no longer clouded by numbing worry, he was able to catch the heady scent of omega slick and potent desire. "...oh."

He felt stupid not to realize. An embarrassed flush settled on his cheeks as Keith continued to laugh, a merry little sound that seemed out of place after the brawl they had just escaped from.

"...Why are you laughing?"

Keith shot him a flirtatious look. "Because...you forced me into heat early."

"I...did?"

The man purred, slipping his hands between his thighs, spreading his legs invitingly. "All of that alpha male posturing...it doesn't usually work on me, but with you, it felt right."

_Stay focused_ , Shiro commanded himself, ripping his eyes away from Keith's hands, delicately rubbing at the insides of his thighs. He could smell the omega's want growing with each passing minute. His face heated, blood beginning to race as his alpha side answered the call of his wanting omega. It was not the time to get lost to his hormones, but he could not help the flood of blood to his nether regions, stiffening his cock in his pants. 

"Shiro." Keith called, voice soft and lulling.

He swallowed thickly, turning his head to look at the man.

"I'm in heat." Keith repeated his earlier statement, eyes heavy lidded and dilated. "I want you to take me."

Had he not been flying, Shiro thought it likely he would have mauled his mate then and there, forcing him onto his knees and mounting him like an animal. As was, necessity demanded he pay attention to the task at hand and ignore his base instincts. The alpha growled miserably in the back of his mind, desperate for relief. _Soon_ , he soothed himself, shifting as his erection grew uncomfortable. Keith wanted to mate and by god so did he. First, they needed to get home safely and no matter what his mate said, he wanted Keith looked over by the doctors. If all was well...they would shortly be locked in their room and not to be seen for several long, blissful days.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distractions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're...so...close
> 
> Anyway, wasn't season 4 exciting?
> 
> There will be no chapter next week as it is my sister's wedding! All this coming week I'll be at hair appointments, dress fittings, rehearsal dinners, and somewhere between all that I have to write a speech! Shit...
> 
> But on the upside, it gives me two weeks to write reunion sex 
> 
> Enjoy!

Despite having gone into heat three times before, this heat seemed already far worse than the others. As soon as they docked the ship, Keith was pulling them back to their room, crooning and whimpering wantonly, honey promises dripping from his lips, so succulent and alluring Shiro's resolve almost crumbled. Almost. The man's protective nature won in the end. He pulled them in the opposite direction, ignoring the ache in his loins as he struggled to make good on his promise to take Keith to the medical bay. The delay was not appreciated. Several paces in and Keith shoved him against the wall, palming his erection with skilled fingers.

"Don't pretend you don't want to take me." 

Shiro choked on a growl, fighting to maintain composure. It was a losing battle. "Of course I want to take you. But before we do that, we're going to the medical bay."

"Fuck me first."

"No."

The omega snarled; Keith never handled rejection well while in heat. " _Why_?"

Shiro was not going to explain it; his concerns should have been obvious, but callously reminding his mate that some forceful alpha had just had his fingers inside of Keith's body was not going to do either of them any good. Best to just get them both to the medical bay. With a huff, he pulled the man along, ignoring the imploring, desperate whines sent his way. 

Ryvaina was still in the lab when they entered, toying with another machine. She raised a brow at their haggard appearance.

"There was a brawl." Shiro explained quickly, guiding Keith towards one of the examination tables and urging him down. "An alpha...got a bit forceful. I just want to be sure that he didn't hurt--"

"I said I'm fine." Keith cut in, crossing his arms petulantly. 

"I just want to be sure, before we...you know."

"Fuck." his mate finished helpfully, completely unabashed by saying so in front of their company. 

Shiro sighed. An hour into Keith's heat and already he was growing tired. Omegas were known to be insistent during heat, but Keith took 'insistent' to new levels, becoming, dare he think it, pushy. Biological needs were demanding to be met. God, Shiro wanted to satisfy them, but no amount of blood pumping to his cock could temper his concern. That was part of the alpha curse; when their omega mates became weaker or needier, the alpha protective instincts took command. It was for the best though. He would never forgive himself if he carelessly rut with Keith only to later find that his mate had been injured and should have been given time to recover.

With much cajoling and promises of release soon, he managed to convince Keith to allow Ryvaina to perform an exam. It was the perfect opportunity to test out the upgraded scanners, the doctor claimed, bringing a device over and waving it over the man's body from head to toe. Curiosity momentarily tempered Keith's passion and he peered at the screen curiously.

"I've never seen it look like that before." he said, staring at the scanned image of his body. The entire bodyshape appeared foreign, the contents of the scan alien. A click of a button and the image shifted from one of his skeleton and organs to one of his muscular makeup.

Ryvaine hummed, pleased. "That is because the machines were never programmed to screen humans or hybrids."

"Really?" Keith recalled the several times Kolivan had adamantly spoken out against the use of the dated Altean technology. He now saw why. 

When the doctor deemed him sound, if a bit iron deficient, he laid back and batted his eyes at his mate. "Check Shiro, too."

"Me?" Shiro blinked.

"Yes, you. If it was never calibrated for human biology, who knows what has been missed or improperly diagnosed. Maybe they can find out what's wrong with your nose."

Immediately, he brought a hand up to the scar over the bridge of his nose. "What's wrong with my--"

"Your sense of smell, dear." Keith smiled fondly. "I was a foot away from you, almost in full heat, and you didn't smell me."

"I was distracted!"

"You've never been able to smell me well since you came back." He recalled the time he had hidden in the sauna with Lance, mere inches from Shiro, and had gone undetected. "I just want to see if there's some logical explanation for it."

A pang of pain twisted in Shiro's gut at the idea of having the scanner turned against him. He should not be so afraid, he scolded himself. Keith made a valid point; there could have been many problems overlooked by the previous scanners. The thought was truly terrifying. If Ryvaina and Knair's engineering had provided them with a window into his body's weakness, he would not refuse the opportunity...no matter his fear of what might be found.

It took a matter of seconds for Ryvaina to scan him, but the following moments awaiting the diagnosis were like eternity. Maybe he had a tumor and the alpha was all a horrible delusion dreamed up due to pressure on his brain. Maybe he was schizophrenic. Maybe had had gone crazy during his imprisonment and they hadn't recognized the signs. The sudden furrow of Ryvaina's brow did nothing to assuage his fears.

"Oh, god," he breathed, "what is it? What's wrong with me?"

Her eyes flicked to him. 

"What is it!" he demanded, panicking.

"Your nose..."

"I know, it's ugly, what about it? Is it broken? Is the cartilage collapsing? Oh, god, is a piece of cartilage going into my brain?"

He was quickly falling into a panic. When Keith reached over and took his hand, crooning softly to calm him, Shiro forced himself to take a deep breath. He had survived this long. Whatever was wrong with him, he could survive a little longer until they fixed him. Dear god, he hoped they could fix him.

Ryvaina passed the scanner to him, pointing at the skeletal image of his face. "You see those pockets? Those are connected to your nasal cavity and what allows you to properly smell pheromones."

"Properly?" Shiro echoed, staring at the sacks and the scar tissue built up over them. 

"The passages have been damaged, severed. You cannot easily smell your mate because the passages are nearly destroyed."

The anxious knot in Shiro's stomach turned to stone, sitting heavily in his gut. He had suspected years ago that the gash across his nose had caused some severe damage--it certainly explained several of his newly gained respiratory problems--but he had not thought of his sense of smell being so damaged. It was trivial when compared to his need to breathe. Now that he had the luxury to stop and smell the roses--or his mate's heat--the loss was devastating.

Keith crooned again, massaging his arm. "But wait...Shiro used to be able to smell me just fine. Maybe not as well as he had been before the scar, but years ago he could smell me across the castle. There are times now he can't even smell me across the room. What's changed? What happened?"

"Delayed deterioration, perhaps." Ryvaina shrugged. She could not accurately say what the cause was, only decipher the images the scanner showed her. 

Shiro fell mute, listening as Keith offered suggestions as to the possible cause of his failed sense of smell. It was a puzzle that he knew his mate worried over. It did not matter, Shiro thought. His sense of smell was gone. It was a loss he had to accept. 

With a frustrated shake of his head, he strode to the examination table and scooped Keith into his arms, curtly thanking Ryvaina for her time before leaving. Surprisingly, Keith did not ask after his odd behavior. The man was still and docile in his arms. There was nothing wrong with _his_ sense of smell, Shiro thought sourly, knowing he must reek of unhappiness and Keith would not be able to ignore such a scent. 

Reaching their room was like reaching sanctuary. As soon as he had stepped over the threshold, Shiro released a breath he had not realized he had been holding. The tension bled from his shoulders and he relaxed, taking in the warmth of his mate's body and what little sweet scent of Keith's heat he could still savor. 

Keith's lips pressed insistently at his neck, teeth nipping gently now and then as the man nuzzled into him. It was plain what Keith was after and as soon as he had placed his mate in bed, Keith was pulling his clothes off and urging his mate to follow. 

The offer--command really--was tempting. Shiro watched, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth, as his mate shed his clothing, baring himself in a display of absolute submission. It killed him to turn away.

Keith sat up immediately, keening worriedly. "What's wrong?" 

He refrained from pathetically asking if Shiro was no longer interested in him. Heat hormones made him stupid, but he was determined not to be a simpering bitch...even if he wanted nothing more than to roll over for his alpha. Reaching out, he gently grasped Shiro's hand, seeking the man's attention.

Shiro refused to look at him, though he obediently sank onto the bed. "How are you like that?"

"Like...what?" Keith asked, fighting to keep his hands to himself.

"Like _that_. I can practically feel you vibrating, you're so eager for sex."

The man's tone implied that it was wrong, but Keith could not understand why. He furrowed his brows, shoving his hands between his thighs and ignoring the wetness there, calling for his mate's attention. "It's natural. I'm in heat, Shiro. You know what that does to me."

There was no need to state the obvious fact that they had been apart three long years, almost four, and the lack of physical contact had taken a toll on him. With Shiro, sex was more than just meeting a biological demand, it was making love, in every sense of the word. Their bond was tangible when they were joined together, so strong that there were times Keith was certain that if he reached out, he would be able to touch it. He craved that intimacy again, as much as he craved to be possessed by his alpha and to sate his lust. 

"I'm sorry if my desire repulses you."

The man spun suddenly. His face was grabbed, Shiro's palms digging into the flesh of his cheeks forcefully. "You do not _repulse_ me!"

Keith flinched, struggling to pull away. "Then what's wrong?"

"You were just attacked, Keith!" The man stared at him blankly. "That alpha, at the bar! He held you down on that table and--and forced his fingers inside of you!"

"Oh."

" _Oh_? Keith! How can you be so casual about it? 'Oh'? Is that all you have to say?!"

Keith supposed 'yes' was not the appropriate answer to give. Shiro's eyes bore into him, watching every minute fluctuation of his expression, as if there were secrets there to read. How disappointed the man would be. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he pulled away, settling against the mound of pillows he had collected for the nest. His mate watched him earnestly, shifting closer.

"I suppose," Keith began, pulling a blanket over his naked body, "I'm just used to it."

"Used to it." Shiro echoed in disbelief.

"It must be nice to be an alpha." Keith could not keep the venom from his voice. He snorted, taking a calming breath. "The universe treats your kind and mine very differently, Shiro. You were raised to expect the world to grovel at your feet. I was raised to expect to be abused."

Shiro groaned softly. He did not want to digress into a debate about how difficult it was for the different classes. He knew that omegas had a vastly more trying time out in the world. He failed to see how that had any bearing on what had transpired that evening and he said as much.

Keith sneered. "Like I said: I'm used to it."

"Keith, that's not an answer. What could you possibly be used to--"

"Oh, you alphas are so full of yourself." the omega snapped, temper flaring. "You think just because you don't experience something that it isn't real? You think that just because you're here now, nothing bad has ever happened to me? _Bull-fucking-shit_. I have been groped, shoved into lockers, pulled into alleys, I have had alphas force kisses on me, grab at me, even sodomize me with---objects. What happened tonight is nothing short of what I've been groomed to expect to happen."

There were tears standing in his eyes and he scrubbed them away furiously. What was he crying about, Keith wondered. This was just life. He had come to expect nothing less. It was just life...he shouldn't have snapped at Shiro. 

"I'm sorry."

The man's hand came to his cheek again, wiping away his tears.

"Why are you crying?" Shiro asked gently, thumbing away the last stray tear.

Keith sniffed loudly, avoiding the man's eyes. "I don't know. I'm probably just hormonal."

That wasn't it, Shiro thought. At least, that wasn't all there was to it. Used to it, Keith said, but still he was shaken. How could anyone grow used to such things happening? Even the idea that his mate could grow to expect such behavior was unacceptable....and yet entirely believable. For how vast the universe was, some things seemed to be the same everywhere.

He pressed their foreheads together, murmuring sweet words of nonsense into Keith's ear. The smell of desire had seriously abated but there was still need there. The need for comfort and love, which Shiro was all too willing to give. Shedding his clothing at last, he pulled Keith into his arms, laying kiss upon kiss on the man's bare flesh, whispering into his hair all night, until his mate was sweet and content once more, happily dozing in his embrace.

===============

The communicator was buzzing. It was time to go; the others were waiting for him. Alas, Shiro was busy. Even had he wished to leave, he would not have been able to, with Keith's strong thighs wrapped around his head, pulling his mouth ever closer to his slick-dripping hole. Shiro happily obliged to the demand, grabbing Keith by the hips and dragging him even closer, sucking the intoxicating liquid into his waiting mouth through heavy, panting breaths. Keith's cock was hard, he could tell, but his mate refrained from touching himself, opting instead to arch off the bed and howl in pleasure. At a particularly high pitched moan, Shiro pulled back, concerned at the sudden crack in Keith's voice.

"Baby? Are you okay?"

The man's eyes snapped down to him, irritated, and a hand quickly tugged his face back between his mate's legs. 

Keith's need was insatiable. Three times his mate came and three times Shiro was forced back into place. He tongued and ate at Keith's spasming hole, growling at the taste on his tongue. He could have spent all day satisfying his mate's heat needs. Alas, the communicator would not quiet. Soon enough, Shiro knew the other paladins would come to fetch him. 

"I have to go." he murmured into Keith's mouth as the man bit at his lips, pawing wildly at his back and chest, trying to pull him back into bed.

"Why?" Keith moaned, grinding onto the man's leg and smearing his slick.

It was torture, being torn from his needy mate. "Mission. Investigating a base."

"Stay." Keith's hand wormed into Shiro's pants, stroking his throbbing cock persistently. 

There was nothing he wanted more, but he had duties. With herculean effort, Shiro pried himself from his mate's arms and righted his clothing. He reach down and adjusted his erection, knowing it would not be going away any time soon. 

"Rest, baby. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Stay." Keith keened pathetically, leaning back and spreading his legs becomingly. 

Shiro's resolve was crumbling. Later, he wondered how he managed to say no. The alpha was clawing at the back of his skull, urging him to mount his mate properly. It was time. It had been literal years; it felt like decades. He wanted so bad to have Keith wrapped around him, his cock buried deep in the man's pliant body, taking his knot, begging for his attention all night. 

"When I get back," he growled, "I will mount you. I'll give you my knot. I _promise_."

He all but ran from the room, before his hormones could turn his brain completely to mush. Seeing Keith laid out for him, neck bared for another mating mark, leaking slick just for him, moaning and clawing at his own body in search of relief was too much. He had wanted this for months and it would be so easy to give in to his alpha urges. 

_Remember the mission_ , he screamed at himself, pausing in the hall to gather his wits. It would be too easy to simply turn around and go back into their room, to pretend the outside world did not exist. The thought lodged in his brain, too sweet to ignore. Just as he turned and took a step back towards the door, his communicator buzzed again, striking him with a cold bolt of clarity.

Mission first. Mating later.

==============

The others were laughing at him. It put Shiro in a foul mood, which he tried valiantly to overcome. Alas, with his mate back at the ship, suffering through his heat alone, knowing how close they had been to finally having one another--it was impossible not to be tense. Reminding himself of the importance of the mission did little to alleviate his distress. Even at such a distance, he swore he could feel traces of Keith's heat, calling him back home

"So Keith is in heat again, huh?" Pidge asked, shining her light into a darkened lab. They examined the disarrayed room through the scope of their lights, finding nothing of note. 

"I notice that amuses you all." Shiro remarked icily, moving on to sweep the next room. 

They were not having great luck with this base, but perhaps it ought to have been expected. It looked like years had passed since the base had been in operation. In the years following the rise of Voltron, the empire had grown smart; any bases or ships abandoned in space were thoroughly purged before the rebels could get to them and glean information from the skeletal remains. Shiro was beginning to doubt there was anything of use left, save the scrap that the empire fleets would return for to help build new warships.

He dropped his light, turning to address Pidge, and found her staring at him with brows drawn.

"What?"

She hesitated a moment, considering if it was the best time to speak up. No time like the present, she supposed. "I've been wondering something--for awhile now."

Shiro raised a brow. "Alright. What have you been wondering?"

She grew silent, expression crumbling. No longer was she the confident alpha he knew, but a concerned young woman, chewing pensively at her lips as she struggled to find words. He did not like it. 

"Pidge, what is it?"

"Matt."

His own expression fell. Matt. He had pointedly tried to avoid thinking of Matt since his return. In retrospect, he supposed it was terribly rude of him, to know that his friend, Pidge's brother, had been executed and to refuse to acknowledge it. Guilt settled in his chest. 

"Matt." he repeated, eyes dropping to the ground. "Yes, I--I never paid my respects to you. I know how devastated you must have been to learn--"

"Are you angry at him?" Pidge blurted. " Are you angry at _me_?"

For a moment, his guilt was tempered by confusion. "Angry? At you? Why would I ever be--"

"Or, Keith?" she interrupted. "Is Keith mad? Has he said anything to you?"

"Whoa, Pidge, hold on; where is this coming from?"

She took a step closer, raising her gaze to stare him directly in the eyes. "When you disappeared three years ago, you were trying to save Matt. You thought that he was still alive out there. That was why you left." she paused, lips quivering slightly. "That was why you left Keith behind."

"God..." He raised a hand to his head, hovering a moment as he remember that his helmet was in place. Was this really an issue? It was devastating enough that Matt was dead; that Pidge held concerns over them harboring resentment towards their lost friend was alarming. He could see where the concern stemmed from.

"Pidge," he began slowly, taking hold of her shoulders, "what happened those years ago has nothing to do with you or Matt. The blame lies entirely on my shoulders. Every one of you tried to convince me to stay, but I decided to chase after the dream of rescuing Matt. I made that choice on my own. ...I pushed Keith away. None of that is on you or Matt."

Slowly, she nodded, though doubt lingered in her eyes. He was sincere, but he could only guess at how long she had held onto these doubts. Perhaps as long as he had been missing. It was a burden she had forced herself to bear.

"You know Keith and I would never blame you for something like that."

"But Keith--"

He shook his head, patting her arm. "Keith is--well, he's stronger than we give him credit for. He doesn't even blame _me_ for my stupid actions. He would never have blamed either you or Matt. He misses Matt as much as the rest of us."

Arms circled his neck suddenly and Pidge's face was pressed to his throat. It was easy to forget that she was an emotional alpha, as emotional as he himself was. Humming reassuringly, Shiro returned the embrace. He was glad that she had spoken up. It was good for the both of them to clear the air, to finally talk, however briefly, about Matt. For so long the rebel had been a taboo topic, an elephant in the room whenever the coalition gathered. He missed his best friend and he whispered as such.

Pidge sniffled. "I know. I miss my brother."

A crackling in their helmets drove them apart as Hunk's dour voice reached their ears.

"There's nothing here, guys. All the tech has been stripped. I can't get a reading on anything. I think we should call it."

From somewhere else in the ship, Lance's voice returned the call. "Agreed. I got squat. Shiro?"

The man sighed, casting a disappointed look about the hall. "Yeah, I think you guys are right. We've found nothing down here either. Let's get back to the lions and go home."

Returning to the castle empty handed was a disappointment, but Shiro counted them lucky to not have encountered any hostiles. After all they had been through, he had started seeing uneventful missions less as failures and more as triumphs of quiet rebellion. Getting shot at had grown tiring years ago. With his age catching up to him, he was not so keen on leaping from wall to wall, acting the spry young man he once was. He would never admit to it, but his back was known to bother him from time to time after missions and if his father's own back problems were anything to go by, he would be due for some doctor visits sooner rather than later.

He tucked the thought away for another day. There were several things he needed to discuss with the doctors, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. As they flew closer to the castle, he could feel Keith reach for him through their bond. His mate needed him. Need vibrated all through his body, tingling in expectation as his mind wandered, conjuring lurid images of all the provocative positions he might return to discover his mate in. 

=================

Shiro had to break his promise. With Keith forcing his lithe, sweating body into his lap, lips insistently pressing to his throat, Shiro felt crushed by guilt. It was a stupid, irrational thing to feel, he told himself, but it was debilitating all the same. He had to come clean.

Gently prying his mate from his lap, he pressed Keith into the nest of blankets and shushed his whining protests.

"Baby, I have something I need to say." The man regarded him impatiently, rubbing his thighs together anxiously. "I want to tell you what happened to me."

Keith stared a moment before his dark eyes rolled, a soft huff of disapproval puffing past his lips. Shiro froze, shocked, lungs burning with his held breath. A dismissal? 

With a self-suffering sigh, Keith rose onto his elbows, prodding the man's side with his bare foot. "Shiro, I don't care."

Shiro's heart sank. "Oh. I'm sorry." He felt he had to add the last. He had no idea what it was he was apologizing for, but he needed to speak the words. There were thousands of things he had to apologize for; perhaps his feeble apology would cover one of those sins.

He did not protest when Keith shifted back into his arms, nuzzling against his collar and scenting him heavily.

"No." Keith mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to his throat. "I mean, I don't care what did or did not happen to you, Shiro." 

"I--I don't understand."

His mate's violet eyes flicked to his face. "You're referring to what Pryim said the other night?" At the soft nod of Shiro's head, Keith purred, wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck. "When you were gone, it was hell. Everyday I prayed you would be found, that you would come home to me. Even when I thought you were dead, I still held some small, dismal hope that you would return to me."

If that was meant to alleviate any of his anxiety, it did not. Shiro rumbled softly, laying a shaking hand on his mate's back. 

"I'm sorry."

His face was grabbed suddenly, dragged down so he stared straight into Keith's narrow eyes. 

"Stop apologizing, Shiro. You're not understanding what I'm saying."

"I'm sorr--" his ears were yanked; he winced, taking the hint. "What do you mean then?"

Keith's touch turned gentle once more, fingers stroking the spots on the man's ears he had just tugged. "I mean exactly what I said: I don't care what did or did not happen to you. It doesn't matter. It was no easier being without you. Are you feeling guilty because you weren't tortured like you were the first time the galra captured you?"

 _Yes_. He stared mutely at Keith, prompting the man to lay a soothing kiss to his forehead.

"If anything," Keith began slowly, holding eye contact, "I'm grateful that none of that happened to you. I hope you slept hours at a time and ate full meals daily. I hope they left you lone for days on end so you could be at peace. All that matters is that you weren't hurt anymore than you already were. They put that foul serum in you--that was enough."

That, Shiro found they could agree on. That serum was torment enough. The injections were, incidentally, never long sessions, but the real trauma of the experience came after his rescue. Any peace he had cooped up in his cell was haunted by fears of what was being put inside of him, what they might do with him, and questions of whether he would ever see his mate and friends again.

With a soft keen, he dropped his head onto Keith's shoulder, succumbing to a fit of shudders as the man continue to kiss at every ounce of flesh he could reach. 

"Keith?"

"Mmm?" His mate pressed a kiss to his nose.

"Can I...I'd like to tell you the truth about what happened still." He hesitated. "Will you let me?"

Keith pulled back, stroking his fingers through the short hairs at the base of the man's neck. "Of course, dear. I'll always listen to you."

For a brief while they were distracted with kisses, lips pressed together softly, straying to neck and shoulders, down one another's chests, sometimes straying to even more secret places. Their bond thrummed vividly between them, alive and blooming. When Shiro forced his hands away, Keith looked at him imploringly, laying back and making a clear offer. It was so tempting and almost he succumbed, hormones hammering his brain and drowning his rationality. When he laid himself between the man's legs, mouth straying to a plump, leaking nipple, Keith sighed.

"Tell me, what happened, Shiro." Keith whimpered, struggling to keep his mind straight. His mate wanted to speak. He would listen. 

And so Shiro told. Between gentle caresses and suckling sweet milk, he laid bare his deepest secrets, sometimes crying, other times struggling to contain his rage. His mate listened patiently, crooning and nuzzling, whispering encouragingly into his hair when he grew tense and uncertain. Words fell from his mouth like a waterfall, ugly and unhindered. He had not meant to bare so much, Shiro thought later as he curled around his mate. The last of his secrets were out. The truth was aired. And Keith loved him even more for it, proudly declaring him an even stronger man than he had been. He did not believe those sweet words, but they soothed him all the same. 

Sometime during the night he woke and sat up, contemplating the stillness and silence. At his side, Keith was resting fitfully, hips shifting now and again in irritation as his heat invaded his dreams. He was being a poor alpha, Shiro thought, but the timing had to be right. They both ached for reunion and were willing to put it off until the exact right moment. 

"Soon," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the man's temple, "I promise it will be soon."


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good stuff!
> 
> (I can't give a good summary without giving much a away)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man, was that wedding a trip. Just...wow. What a weekend. The writing rest was good though. 
> 
> Well, anyway, I think y'all are gonna be SOOOO pleased with this chapter. Please do leave me a comment to let me know *snickers to self*
> 
> Enjoy!

Shiro cringed as his ears continued to ring, snuffing out the din of battle. He knew there were screams and blasts all around him, but the mechanical hum in his head drown them all out. Hunk collapsed beside him, a gash over his brow dripping blood into his eye. Shiro felt a flare of anger at the wound; his team to protect and he was failing. This was not meant to happen. This was supposed to be an easy mission, not an ambush. Hunk's mouth moved rapidly, but he could not hear the words. Pinned down, he thought he read on the man's lips. Too many drones. 

"Where are Lance and Pidge?" he spoke the words, unable to hear his own voice. 

He did not understand Hunk's answer. The others were not there, that much he could glean from the frantic way Hunk clung to him, urging him up and towards an exit. His eyes flicked towards the door in question, considering the distance. It would be less of a close call and more of a death march, trying to weave their way through the hail of fire currently upon them. 

He dared a glance over the console they were hiding behind, trying to count the drones. He stopped at twelve. Too many. More than he wanted to try facing--in this room at any rate.

"I have an idea!" he shouted, finally hearing the soft hiss of his voice over the crackling in his ears. 

Hunk flinched, nodding quickly as Shiro jerked his arm towards the door and barked an order to run. Their shields barely stood up to the barrage of drone fire, but luck was with them. The door swooshed closed behind them and the quiet solitude of the hallway swallowed them. The ringing died to a nearly imperceptible hum in Shiro's head. A slap to his temple did nothing to dislodge the sound; he resolved to live with the irritation until it faded on its own.

"To the lions?" Hunk asked, already three paces ahead of him.

Shiro scowled at the door, listening to the clang of metal as the drones beat against it. Soon, they would be spilling into the hall. 

"No." 

"No?" Hunk repeated, shocked. Their retreat had seemed to be impending. 

Shiro shook his head, baring his teeth in a threatening snarl as the first crack appeared in the door. "Get behind me and get your blaster ready!"

"What?!"

"We're in a bottleneck, Hunk! As soon as they start pouring through, shoot them!"

He did not bother to check and make certain that Hunk followed orders; he trusted the man. With some effort, Shiro shifted his bayard's form, holding a clunky blaster in his hand. He was not a great marksman, but at this range he didn't need to be. The door was pried open and a wave of drones flooded through, stumbling over one another in their haste. Shiro would not go so far as to say he shot blindly--only a novice would be so clumsily idiotic--but he did not take the care he normally would when aiming a blow. Each blast, no matter where he aimed, found a target. 

The assault could not have lasted more than seven minutes, but it felt like an hour. The ringing in Shiro's ears had given way to the hammering of his heart as adrenaline rushed his system. When all was said and done, a mass of sparking, dismembered drones laid at their feet. A powerful swelling of pride filled his chest and he roared.

At his back, Hunk tensed. "Shiro?"

"They never stood a chance against us." he said confidently, pressing his earpiece to activate the communication line. "Pidge, Lance. Report. Have you retrieved the assets?"

A brief silence reigned over the line. There came a soft crackle and then Pidge's voice burst in his ear.

"Roger! All assets and data have been retrieved!"

"I got what I came for." Lance added, "Now let's get out of here, before they send even more drones."

Shiro felt a smug grin curl his lips. "To the lions."

===================

His erection was no longer ignorable; all through the return flight to the castle, Shiro had felt the swelling of blood building. It was simply adrenaline, he thought, lingering in his system from the hectic fight. A good battle always stirred him, rousing his alpha side and calling on his baser instincts. It was not that unusual an occurrence.

With the lions properly docked and his erection still throbbing, refusing to deflate, Shiro held a moment of concern. Perhaps he ought to wait until he was more presentable... The thought was quickly drown out by the whooping cheers of his teammates through his helmet's communication line, drawing him to the bridge where Pidge was pulling up the logs they had procured. Curiosity was a great draw and could not combat against embarrassment. Carefully adjusting himself before he entered the room, Shiro drifted towards the team, leaning over the back of Pidge's chair and staring in awe at the slew of information they had procured.

"Incredible..." Hunk marveled, eyes scanning the hundreds of file names.

Shiro grinned. "They were careless. We finally scored a hard blow."

With the information they had collected, there was no telling how far forward the coalition might be able to move. The files ranged from battle plans, prisoner files, weapon reports, to all manner of secrets the paladins were never to lay their eyes on. It was a glorious win.

Shiro's head swam in triumph. This, this was how a leader was meant to feel: important, successful, productive...wanted. 

_Wanted?_ He blinked, feeling a tingling sensation race up his spine. A low growl built in his throat, but he fought it down, valiantly reining in his impulsive alpha instincts. Turning his head to seek out the source of the feeling, he spotted a familiar silhouette lurking in the hallway. Keith's slim hands wrapped around the door frame, his bright eyes shining points of interest in the darkness as he peered in, locking eyes with Shiro and beckoning him with an intense look.

He could not ignore the call. The paladins did not even glance at Shiro as he move away, slipping into the hall and drawing Keith into his arms. The man purred loudly, eyelids drooping.

"You're up." Shiro said, voice lilting in surprise. He had expected Keith to remain hidden for the remainder of his heat.

The man hummed in response, leaning into his arms and inhaling deeply. Another shudder ran up Shiro's spine as a wash of lusty omega pheromones reached his nose. 

"You're in a rut."

Shiro blinked. In a...that was impossible, he almost blurted. He hadn't been a rut in...longer than he could recall. Before his capture, that much he knew. Honestly, his ruts were few and far between, although healthy, virile alphas tended to rut nearly as much as their omega mates. It was a result of his trauma, Coran had explained to him years ago. It had been sad news, but there was little Shiro could do, save think back on their garrison days fondly, remembering how he had used Keith's body to sate his alpha needs. It really was a wonder they were never caught and expelled.

A rut....he turned the fact over in his mind. How fortuitous. They hadn't shared a rut in so long. If his memory served him well, the last time he had gone into a rut, he had nearly mauled Hunk for walking in on them mid coitus. The alpha was enraged that someone had seen his mate in his most vulnerable and intimate moments. It had been their own fault, succumbing to their carnal desires in the training hall. The memory lodged in his mind, bittersweet. He wondered if Keith would be open to the idea of rutting in open space once more.

He slipped his arm around Keith's slim waist, fingers straying to narrow hips. "You're in heat." he growled in response, leaning down slightly to inhale the sweet scent. It raced to his head in an instant, flooding his mind with lurid images. Had he not already been sporting a raging hard-on, he would have in an instant. As was, Keith leaned in just a tad closer, slotting his knee coyly between his mate's legs, and grinding upwards, into Shiro's sac. 

Shiro growled warningly, pressing his fingers into the man's hips with bruising force. "Don't tease."

"Fuck me." Keith's eyes glittered with unbridled excitement. "You promised me, my alpha. Claim me. Now."

"I did promise." He lifted a hand to brush the hair from his mate's eyes. "Will you submit to your alpha?"

"Yes."

"All evening? I haven't had you--"

"Shiro, yes! Let's not belabor this any longer than we have. Your bitch is in heat and my alpha is in a rut. If that isn't fate giving us the middle finger, I don't know what is."

He had no argument to make. Why argue when Keith was plainly so right? Never had a more opportune moment presented itself. Why wait? 

He wouldn't, Shiro decided that in an instant, releasing his hold on his mate's hips and instead grabbing his wrist and tugging the man along in his wake. Keith laughed, a playful sound that made Shiro's head spin. He wanted to hear all of Keith's happy sounds that night: his moaning, his whining, his keening. For a split second, he considered shoving the man against the nearest wall and rutting right then and there, but a scrap of consciousness stalled him.

Soon, Keith was dragging him, practically running to their room. When they arrived at their door, Shiro slapped at the keypad, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He needed Keith. He needed his mate naked and spread. He could smell the slick leaking from the man's needy passage and Shiro had every intention of sheathing himself their all evening long. As they stumbled inside, all hands and sloppy kisses, panting into each other's mouths, Keith twisted, shoving Shiro back against the door and growling into his mouth.

Before Shiro could react, Keith fell to his knees, yanking at his mate's belt. A choked groan slipped through Shiro's clenched teeth as Keith's slender fingers slid into his pants and pulled his cock free. The groan quickly turned to a hoarse cry of pleasure as his mate leaned in and took him in his mouth, swallowing him without hesitation. He threaded his fingers in Keith's hair as the man worked, bobbing his head with an enthusiasm Shiro hadn't experienced since their youth. He was almost spent with a few careful flicks of Keith's tongue and teasing puffs of air blown across his sensitive flesh. 

Growling, he forced Keith's head back, earning a startled gasp. Keith began pawing at him again immediately, mewling unhappily, lips glistening with saliva. Another growl slipped past Shiro's lips. He loved that skilled little mouth working over his aching cock, but not then. That was not what he wanted. It wasn't what he needed. He knew it wasn't what Keith needed either. 

Dragging the man to his feet, he forced their mouths together once more, pushing Keith towards the bed at the same time. They stumbled no few times, falling into the wall and the desk as they fumbled at one another's clothing. Shiro took the opportunity to slam his mate onto the desk and tear the pants down the man's legs, dropping to a knee and burying his nose into the wet, welcoming space between Keith's thighs. He was permitted to stay only a moment before Keith forced his body into Shiro's arms, looping wiry arms around his mate's neck and demanding the attention of Shiro's mouth. 

Shiro stumbled from the desk to the bed, mindful to protect his demanding mate from being crushed beneath him. Twisting and falling onto his back, Shiro laughed, adrenaline surging. He was stripped in a second, Keith's slight weight settling onto his lap once more. Instinctively, he bucked his hips, nudging his cock into the cleft of his mate's backside. He was met with a smearing of heavy slick, awaiting his entrance. 

"Now." Keith pleaded, wrapping his legs around the man's waist. "You promised, my alpha."

"Shhh, I know; I've got you, baby."

" _Now!_ " Keith growled, a sound that quickly turned to a groan of need as he shifted his hips, pressing his own aching cock against his mate's stomach, demanding satisfaction. 

"I'm wet..." Keith whined, rising onto his knees to slip a finger into his loose passage. He could take Shiro, of that fact he was confident. His body was made for this. Even if there were some pain, it would be worth it. Pain, pleasure; it all fell away to pure bliss soon enough. To be certain though and to reassure his alpha, he forced a second finger in, locking eyes with his mate teasingly. 

Shiro narrowed his eyes, biting back a growl. He loved when his omega was playful--but he had no patience for it that moment. Baring his teeth, he sat up, lifting Keith easily and lining the tip of his cock with his mate's slick entrance. The man's eyes widened momentarily, before fluttering closed, a pleasured keen vibrating in his throat. 

Instinct demanded Shiro push in to the hilt, claim his mate roughly and thoroughly. It had been ages since their last coupling and he needed to get his scent in deep. He needed to lock as deep inside his mate as possible. A hard, animalistic rutting was just what they both wanted. Not for their first time though, sense told him. Later,to be certain, but their first, desperate session needed to be as slow as their patience would allow. Which was not much. 

Inch by careful inch, he slid inside Keith's eager body, holding still whenever the man gasped or shuddered. The slick eased his way, but it was not enough. It _had_ been too long, Shiro thought as Keith's tight walls compressed him. His mate's body had grown accustomed to loneliness.

"Baby," he panted into the crook of Keith's neck, "you're so tight. Like the first time you let me knot you."

Keith keened loudly, clenching around the cock buried inside of him. It was growing difficult to think beyond the feel of Shiro's cock stretching him wide, the burn of his flesh shifting and accommodating for his mate, the thrum of adrenaline in his belly growing stronger with each passing second. All the blood had rushed from his head to his cock and he was lost to anything but the need to sate the primal itch inside of him. When he felt the bulge of the man's knot pressing intently at his entrance, worming it's way inside, he gasped.

"Baby?" Shiro kissed at his nape, humming in concern.

Keith groaned lowly, body suddenly going lax. "Oooh, you're knot...you promised."

"Mmm, I did." And he wanted to knot as badly as Keith desired him to.

It took more effort than Shiro remembered, but with gentle thrusts and a little added lubrication and coaxing from his fingers, he was able to slip fully inside of his mate. He shuddered as the man clenched around his sensitive knot, mewling into his ear before nipping the lobe. For a moment Shiro held still, savoring the feel of his mate, wrapped around him in the most intimate of ways, arms and legs trapping him in a cage of warm flesh. He never wanted to escape.

The first thrust was short and shallow, a test to see what they could both handle. At Keith's disappointed mewl, he thrust a bit harder, pulling out just a tad further. Each time, his mate moaned and whined in need and each time he answered with mounting depth and force until he was thrusting into the man's body with abandon. Keith's nails sank into his back as he clung for dear life, crying his pleasure into Shiro's ear as the man slammed into him. Each thrust drew almost completely from his body before pounding back in, striking his sweet spot again and again until his toes curled. 

"Ah, Sh-Shiro!"

"Almost, baby?" Shiro tried not to chuckle. He was just as close; their stamina was regrettably low.

Keith's eyes sprang open as he felt something catch at his entrance with each thrust. Shiro's knot, he quickly realized, a wash of color flooding his cheeks. His alpha was knotting him! He crooned, burying his face into the man's shoulder as he ground down on the knot. Thrusting was becoming a bit more difficult, so Shiro shifted, gripping his mate's hips and forcing him down onto his knot while he jerked shallowly. 

Pain blossomed suddenly, taking the place of pleasure, and Keith yelped, scratching at his mate's back.

"Shiro!"

"Shhh." Shiro gripped him tightly, ignoring his mate's fervent scratching as his knot swelled, locking them together. For a few brief moments, Keith scrambled, as if to get away, but it was a useless endeavor. The man collapsed against him, pitiful whimpers echoing in his ear. "Shhh, it's alright, baby. I've got you. Just try to relax."

Four years now. Four years of not knowing one another and he had stupidly jumped into knotting Keith during their first penetrative encounter. _Idiot_ , Shiro chided himself. Even if Keith had wanted it, had begged for it, he should have known better. They should have at least had a few sessions of lovemaking that didn't involve knotting his mate. There was no telling how long they would remain locked together...

_Damned hormones..._

"I'm so sorry, Keith. I--"

Keith keened, nuzzling into his neck. "I like it...it hurts, but...It's you. I want you."

To Shiro's amazement, within a few moments Keith was lax against him, body pliant in his arms. Every now and then the man would tense and hiss, cringing at the stretch of the knot inside of him, but he voiced no complaint beyond that. When the swelling at last went down, his seed spent, and he pulled free, Keith immediately pushed back into his arms.

"Again." Keith pleaded, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. "Take me again, Takashi."

He could not say no to such a request.

==============

His hands slipped on the wet tile of the shower wall, body teetering dangerously as he lost his balance, but Shiro's arm around his waist kept him on his feet. The sudden jerk nearly pulled the man's knot free, but Shiro hastily forced himself in to the hilt, determined to swell inside of his mate. A few thrusts more and he was spilling his seed, swelling and locking into place inside of Keith's body. He threw his head back and growled.

Keith shuddered at the possessive sound. "You shouldn't have done that." he panted, legs trembling.

"I know." Shiro murmured, leaning his forehead against the man's shoulder. He could not help himself though. Each moment with his mate was a gift and what type of monster would he be if he turned down the pleasure is mate was offering? 

The rest of the paladins would be put out with him. He had to be in the hangar in ten minutes, washed and ready to go, and knew he would be locked with Keith for at least twenty minutes--probably longer. Every knotting they had the prior evening had lasted at least thirty minutes, fifty at the longest. At one point, Keith had curled up on his chest and dozed until his knot had deflated and they could start anew. Shiro had no idea where this wellspring of energy was coming from, but he loved it. He felt whole again, like a true alpha. 

His mate sighed, leaning back into his arms with a tired groan. "How many times was that?" Keith slurred.

"Only the first time today." Shiro grinned at the petulant expression the man shot him over his shoulder.

" _How many?_ "

"Five? I think. Maybe six. We were still....joined when we fell asleep."

Keith snorted. Knotting in their sleep--it was absurd. The pain of it should have kept the both of them--or him at least--awake. His body had quickly grown accustomed to the act of knotting, but it was still terribly uncomfortable when he shifted, inadvertently tugging against the knot buried inside of him. It seemed bigger than he remembered.

Sighing, he allowed himself to be pulled towards the stall ledge where he could comfortably sit on Shiro's lap until he was free. The spray of the steaming water struck his chest, caressing his sensitive skin and cleaning him of his smeared semen. He was blissfully relaxed, ready to fall asleep in Shiro's arms if he allowed himself, but he knew he could not. Someone had to make sure that the alpha saw to his daily paladin duties. Clearly, it was not going to be Shiro himself. The man's hand strayed between Keith's legs, warm metallic fingers curling around his rigged cock, stroking it back to attention.

A soft groan escaped Keith. "Not now, dear. We're trying to get you out of here, remember?"

Shiro pulled his fingers away with a soft huff, though it pained him to do so. He wished to stay and play all day, forget about the war and the coalition. All that truly mattered was his heat-desperate mate. 

"Right." he sighed dejectedly.

They sat a moment in silence, rubbing their wrists together to scent. Keith lifted his leg slightly, feeling the pull of Shiro's knot. "Where are you going this time?"

The man hummed into his ear, kissing the outer shell. "Checking out one of the galra ships you located. Pidge did some snooping and found that there are a limited number of sentries there. It should be an easy taking."

"Not a hub then." Keith mused.

"No, but she did find several communication lines going into the base with classified information. It could be something....or nothing. We'll find out. One less galra base is one less base we have to worry about."

No denying that, Keith thought. Every sentry they demolished, every piece of information they stole, it was a step taken towards victory. The empire had been oddly quiet of late, the prince apparently gone into hiding, but Keith knew it would not last. They had had lulls before and it was usually a calm before a massive shitstorm. How Lotor always managed to keep a step ahead of them, always concocting ways to surprise them, he would never know. The prince was simply clever--more clever than him. It was infuriating. 

The teasing of teeth against his nape brought Keith back to his wits and he jerked away as best he could. "What are you doing?"

Shiro blinked at the surprised, somewhat frightened tone. "I--I was just biting you."

Immediately, Keith's hand flew to his neck, covering Lotor's mating mark. "I told you, not yet."

Shiro frowned, eyeing the ugly scar. He hated it. He wanted it gone. "I know you said not yet, but I just don't understand why, Keith. I want to get rid of that mark. I don't want Lotor's claim on you. I want to put _my_ claim over it."

He wanted the same, but it was not yet time. Turning away, Keith sighed. He owed an explanation, but it had to wait. Soon. 

"Patience." was all he said, counting on Shiro's eternal understanding to lend the man said patience to tolerate his odd behavior just a bit longer.

Conversation quickly dried from there. When Shiro left, an hour later, forcing his flagging erection between his legs, he glanced worriedly at his mate. Keith stared back at him from the bed, curled naked in the nest of blankets. Sated as he was, his heat was no longer twisting his mind, turning his thoughts to lewd mush. It was not to last though. 

"I'll be...out of sorts when you get back." Keith said timidly. An hour would be long enough for his omega side to begin whining for his alpha. He was positive the mission would take Shiro from him for far longer. At least they would have an uproarious reunion.

Shiro smiled weakly. "Well, I probably will be too." He paused, staring at the man for a long moment. "Keith, you're alright, aren't you?"

Keith blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Did I force--" he stopped short. No, that wasn't the right question. "Are you feeling comfortable with how we are right now? Is it too much? I can go back to my room if it is. I just want you to be--"

"Takashi, _stop_."

The man snapped his mouth shut, standing straight as Keith unfurled the blankets and crossed the room. Slender arms wrapped around his neck and all of Shiro's previous fears were dispelled. He was being ridiculous, Shiro chided himself, pulling Keith tightly against him and scenting him aggressively. He was there because his mate wanted him. There was no doubt that if Keith had not wanted him there, he would not be. 

"Get some rest, baby." he said, planting a kiss to his mating mark. "When I come back, I'm sure we'll both be ready to stay in here for the rest of the night."

Keith snorted, leaning back to grin at him. "When you get back, we're locking that door for the next three days. Warn the others of that. Black paladin orders."

"Well, if it's a command..."

He had no intention of disobeying. All the more reason for him to leave and get back sooner.

============

"This place is way bigger than anticipated." Pidge murmured, staring unhappily at the blueprint she had pulled up.

She had noticed that when they had flown in, finding not just a galra base, but a sprawling hub of some sort. Keith had said that there was some sort of activity there, but her snooping had not confirmed his suspicions. It was not until they were inside that she saw how he could have thought there were masses of galra soldiers about. And yet they were no longer there...suspicious. 

Shiro took a deep breath, staring at the blueprint and assessing the situation. Twelve levels, four wings, countless rooms. What they had anticipated to be a brief mission was quickly shaping up to be an arduous endeavor. It was good then they had brought the full force of Voltron. With five paladins, the work would go faster. Or, as fast as it possibly could.

"Keep your guards up." Shiro advised, peering at the blueprint. "Pidge, you go find the bridge, see if there's any information left in the consoles. The rest of us will take the four corners. I'll take North. Lance, East. Hunk, West. Allura, South. Check in every fifteen minutes. There may be few sentries left to patrol, but there's no telling what we might stumble on."

A hail of agreement met his words before the paladins darted off in their appropriate directions. Shiro watched their backs as they disappeared down the halls, a functional unit of soldiers. He was proud to be their leader once more. They had grown into warriors worthy of the title of paladin. He was proud of them all. 

Smiling weakly, he turned his attention to his wing, sighing at the many doors flanking the first corridor. Before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed and a number of unenthused voices chirped over the communication lines. Nothing of note had been found. There were several complaints of the number of rooms to be searched. 

"Pace yourselves." he advised, exiting another empty lab. 

He was not sure what types of rooms the others were stumbling through, but Shiro was slowly piecing together thoughts on what type of facility this had once been. He had sifted through the debris of a dozen labs within two hours and though there were few experiments left, the tools and stains of blood and fluids gave him enough information to make an educated guess. This base was very much like the last one he had been housed at.

Was this where the serum had been created, he wondered, powering up a console and sorting through the remaining data. Perhaps this _was_ the base he had been imprisoned in. The blood on the table could well be his...or any number of the hundreds of victims who had fallen to the feral serum. According to the Blades many had come before him. And after. He frowned, hand trembling slightly. Would the torture ever stop? 

An unpleasant shudder ran up his spine and he ripped his hand from the console, holding it up threateningly. Someone was there.

Spinning on his heel, he turned to find...nothing. The room was empty, save himself and a few broken containment chambers. His memories were making him jumpy, Shiro admonished himself, letting his bionic arm power down. It was not his prison and those were not the labs he had been tortured in. Keith would never have allowed him to go back to that place, wherever it had been. He was safe.

"I'm safe." he whispered to himself, solidifying the fact in his mind.

"Safe?"

Shiro hunched his shoulders, back rigid, muscles so tense they erupted in pain. He spun, baring his teeth on instinct, narrow eyes scanning the darkness. A mocking peel of low laughter echoed about the room. He growled loudly, recognizing the voice. It haunted his nightmares. 

"Come out!" he demanded. "Unless you're too scared to face me."

There was a snort of amusement from his left and he spun again, finding a dark figure lurking in the shadows. Even after years of absence, he recognized the silhouette. When the man stepped into the beam of his light, Shiro felt his face contort into a violent snarl, his alpha side rearing in rage.

"Lotor."

The prince smiled pleasantly, tipping his head to the side gently as if in greeting. "Paladin. It has been some time, has it not? It is good to see you well. I confess though, I am sad to see that you are alone. Tell me...where is my little mate?"


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enough was enough. The last string of Shiro's patience had broken. Lotor had taken too much. It was time to strike back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you excited, guys? I'm excited.
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments, guys! I love them so much, I get excited each time my phone digs! I'm a review whore lol

"It's not so bad." Keith hissed through clenched teeth, fighting to keep the grimace of pain from his face.

Shiro glanced up at him from where he knelt, carefully dabbing a disinfectant across the neatly stitched wound on his mate's leg. Not so bad in the sense that it was not the worst wound one of them had sustained during a mission, but the cut was deep. The flying shrapnel had swept over them in their flight. Most of their ensuing wounds were minor; their armor protected them from the worst of the damage. 

As they had hobbled on towards the lions though, Shiro detected something was wrong. Keith began lagging; behind him, he could hear the man's labored breath, heavy and rasping. He paused and spun in alarm when Keith yelped. Keith had fought against him when he pulled the man into his arms and began checking him for wounds, but the protests quickly died when they spotted the mass of twisted metal protruding from the niche in the man's leg armor. 

An unlucky happening, Keith had said, writing it off as little more than a minor irritation. As they sat together in the Black Lion, trusting the great beast to get them safely to the castle, Shiro saw the injury for what it was.

"This could have been fatal, Keith."

The man snorted. "It's my leg, Shiro."

"And that shard was wedged so far into your muscle, it practically touched bone. You're lucky it didn't nick an artery. 

"There's no need to talk down to me."

"I'm not--"

"You're acting like I walked into a field of flying shrapnel of my own volition." Keith said, fixing stern eyes on his mate. His cold expression told Shiro exactly how he felt about the verbal admonishment. "In case you had any doubts--I didn't."

A sigh slipped past his lips. "I know you didn't, Keith. I was right there with you."

"Then stop treating me like a child."

"I'm just worried! Keith, this is the second time in two months that you've been injured in the line of duty."

"That is not my fault! If you want to complain to someone, take it up with Lotor! He's the one setting all these traps for us! Better yet, why don't you stop leading us into them?"

Shiro fought down a snarl, turning his head away and gritting his teeth. He had not needed the reminder that they were falling into traps more and more frequently. Somewhere along the way, Prince Lotor had changed his strategies and they had not caught up to his thinking. What had started as straight forward, all out war, had become a game of cat and mouse. They were being toyed with. It was maddening, even more so when the team suffered from their failures. Over the months, all of them had taken wounds, some more grievous than others. He still flinched each time he caught sight of Hunk's amputated foot. It was a loss he knew all too well. 

A soft touch to his hand drew his attention and he turned back to Keith.

The man stared at him, brows drawn in concern. "Shiro?"

He pulled his hand free with a violent jerk. "I'm fine."

Keith studied him a moment, worrying at the frayed edges of the bandage wrapped about his leg. "Fine, but upset. You know it's not your fault either. These traps--"

"I know!" Shiro snapped, standing suddenly and looming over his mate. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought to keep his composure. Keith blinked up at him, mouth a tightly pressed line. 

"Are you angry?" Keith asked in a small voice. "Because of what I said? I'm sorry."

He was sincere, Shiro could sense that. Still, his pride stung. 

"You can spit venom when you're upset, you know that?"

Keith had the decency to look embarrassed. "I know. And I'm worse when I'm in pain. I shouldn't have said that." He sighed, dropping his head. "I'm just--so tired of this. I'm tired of falling into Lotor's traps. I'm tired of him coming after me."

Shiro's head snapped down, staring at his mate, aghast. 

When Keith raised his head, he found the man staring at him in open mouth shock. For a moment, he was confused, uncertain as to why the man was staring at him in such a manner. What had he said? What had upset Shiro so? He was tired of...oh.

"Us." Keith corrected. "I'm tired of Lotor coming after us."

'Us' was not who Lotor was concentrating the most energy on. Shiro had to admit that. The prince was enthralled with Keith. Obsessed was a better word. There had been ample threats made regarding what he would do, should Keith ever fall into his grasp. Shiro's presence had never deterred the prince. He was little more than an obstacle for Lotor to overcome, an obstacle he would happily dispose of. 

Not if Shiro had any say in the matter. Dropping back to his knees, he took his mate's face in his hands and forced their gazes together.

"Keith, I won't ever allow him to get to you. Ever."

Keith's face remained blank. The prince had already gotten to him, with Shiro standing only several yards away. Multiple times. It was alarming how close the prince could get with his entire team nearby. 

"Keith, I swear it. I will protect you with my life."

"I know you will. I never doubted that."

But he doubted if Shiro could keep him protected forever, Shiro could see the uncertainty in the man's eyes. One way or another, they all knew that either he or Lotor had to die. Lotor was determined that it would not be himself. The stakes had grown high over the years. Too high. No one should ever have to fear for their dignity. 

Clenching his hands tightly around Keith's cheeks, he pressed their foreheads together before leaning in for a kiss. His mate was unresponsive for a moment, shrinking into himself before opening his mouth and kissing back hesitantly. In the back of their minds, Black purred at them, pleased that their emotions had calmed and they were friends once more. 

Shiro chuckled softly, tucking his mate carefully in his arms. At times it was unnerving, knowing that he had Black always in the back of his mind, listening, seeing, feeling everything he did. It was comforting as well, but often embarrassing. Keith had adjusted to the voyeurism quickly, unabashedly initiating lurid situations in the great lion's presence. Shiro did not know what disturbed him more; that he enjoyed having the audience or that he knew Black enjoyed watching.

Upon arriving at the castle, he carried Keith to their room, rumbling happily as his mate nuzzled beneath his chin, crooning at his alpha's attentiveness. As soon as Keith was safely situation in bed, Shiro began tugging his clothing off, staring hungrily at the man. Before he was in bed, his cock was hardening, knot puffing in interest. As he slipped inside of his mate, Keith had wrapped around him tightly, burying his face into Shiro's shoulder and crying out his pleasure loudly. 

"Don't ever let me go." he panted into Shiro's ear, clinging to the man's broad back. 

"Never." Shiro growled, pinning him down and burying his knot deep. "You're mine. I will never allow anyone to take you from me. _Never_."

He had meant it. Keith had believed him. But fate had later turned against them. Whether he willed it or not, Shiro had broken his promise. The prince had won. 

=======================

A warning growl built in the back of Shiro's throat, hand inching to his belt where his bayard hung. The subtle movement did not slip past Lotor's notice, but he allowed it, smiling benignly. Even as the bayard took shape, the prince's expression betrayed nothing. If Lotor was moved to caution, he did not show it.

"You brought us here." Shiro spat, feeling the alpha's hackles raise in the back of his mind. For once, he wouldn't mind losing himself to the animal.

Lotor chuckled. "Well, I could not simply call you, as I can my little mate."

"He's not your mate!"

Another damn trap--he had fallen into one of Lotor's traps like the densest of fools. 

"He is though." Lotor remarked calmly, stepping from the shadows and circling him with a predatory gaze. "I've marked him as such. Surely you've noticed it."

Images of Lotor's ugly mating mark flashed in Shiro's mind, as did memories of Keith's shame and humiliation. Had Lotor been trying to call Keith? Was that what the prince was insinuating? He snarled again, wondering if Keith's strange reaction to the mating mark were tied to Lotor's drawing them into a trap. Surely, if Keith had felt the call, he would have alerted them to it. 

"Don't make such a face." Lotor teased, hands tucked behind his back. 

Shiro knew, from years of battling the prince, that no matter how poised and at ease the man appeared, there was a weapon in his hand. His slender, deadly fingers were most likely curled around the hilt of his sword. They had not come to blows yet, amazingly. Were he pushed further though, Shiro would not hesitate to initiate violence. 

"What do you want?" he snapped. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I told you already. I'm looking for my mate. I've heard word that you and he have...reconciled. Pryim had quite a report to give."

Who? He couldn't recall. Someone they had clashed with recently, if reports of their reunion had reached Lotor's ears. He tried thinking back and--ah. Shiro did recall. "That prick from the bar?"

Lotor shrugged with a small laugh. "He is uncouth, but he serves me well. He was quite surprised to see my beauteous mate along side you. Truth told, I was rather shocked at the news as well."

_Because you thought you had driven me mad._ The memories of his days in prison had not left him. He recalled the serum injections, the violent prodding as his captors tried to goad him into violence. He remembered the terrible months of fighting the feral beast in his brain, making him so desperate he almost dashed his own brains out on the wall in an attempt for release. 

"Your plan didn't work." A dark grin twisted Shiro's lips. "You miscalculated how much Keith and I love each other."

"Oh, I'm sure he absolutely _adored_ you when you returned."

"He was the one who saved me. He knew what it was you had put in me, he knew what you were trying to do to us. He's stronger than you could ever imagine. Our love is stronger than anything you'll ever know."

Something altered in the set of the prince's face. His brows drew together a tad, mouth tightening, though his smug grin never faded. Anger? Annoyance? Shiro could not tell. It did not matter, he supposed. Whatever the man felt, he was no longer as secure as he had been when their uncomfortable interaction began.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, gripping his bayard. "Do you even know what love is?"

"Yes, I do in fact." Lotor growled.

"I doubt it. Monsters like you have never known love. You take your hate out on the rest of the universe and then wonder why no one can find it within themselves to love you. Take a good look at yourself and you'll know--it's because you are unlovable and incapable of loving anything but yourself."

"I have loved--"

"You never loved Keith."

The prince's expression changed once more, eyes widening as if shocked, mouth splitting wide. He barked out a sharp laugh, hand straying to his belly, as if he were struck by a fit of side-splitting laughter. 

"Love him?" Lotor asked, amused. "Of course I never loved the stupid bitch."

For a moment, Shiro was stunned. He had not exactly been expecting a declaration of undying love, but he had thought that Lotor had felt something for Keith. Why else would the prince try so fiercely to pull Keith back into his grasp? Why fight so hard to mate with Keith? 

"You don't love him." he hissed, raising his bayard. "You want to own him."

"Naturally. There is nothing more satisfying than breaking a bitch of their willful spirit. Besides, he would make a wonderful trophy. As you well know."

Shiro's temper broke. In a fit of rage, he threw his bayard aside and raised his fist, fingers bursting to life in an explosion of violet flashes. His bayard was too good for Lotor. He wanted to feel the prince's blood on his fingers, wanted to clench the man's still-beating heart in his fist before crushing it. Roaring, he charged, narrowly avoiding a swipe from Lotor's sword as the prince sidestepped him. His bionic hand clashed with the metal in a shower of sparks, striking again and again in a desperate attempt to get to the man's throat.

He was better than Shiro remembered; the prince moved nimbly, as if it were a familiar dance he knew every step of. Lotor was besting him. It was a harsh realization. His anger was guiding him, making him reckless. It opened doors for the prince to score wounds he would have never been able to take, were the alpha not howling and demanding blood. 

Leaping back a pace, Shiro stole a moment to gather his breath and collect his wits. Recklessness would be his downfall. Lotor did not want to fight; if he had, the prince would have used his element of surprise to his advantage and had a blade to Shiro's throat before he had been detected. What did he want then, Shiro wondered frantically. 

_I told you already. I'm looking for my mate._

"You brought us here...because you thought you could get Keith."

Lotor lowered his sword, smile returning. "He is part of Voltron, is he not?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing of note."

For a long, painfully tense moment they stared at one another. He was prey, Shiro thought angrily, watching the way Lotor's lips curled and his eyes followed every move the paladin made. _What does he want?_ When the game grew tiring, Lotor sheathed his blade, striding forward in three long steps, and leaned in close. Shiro growled, standing his ground. A short huff of breath and Lotor's nose turned up.

"Are you sniffing me?" Shiro snarled.

Lotor stared at him blankly. "You're not the alpha I was hoping you would be."

"Your plan failed. Accept your loss."

A soft, sibilant chuckling hissed from the prince's mouth. "Did I though, false alpha? The bitch will be mine. I will breed him. Voltron will fall. There is nothing you can do about that, no matter what you convince yourself of."

"You've already lost."

"One lost battle does not mean I have lost the war."

Something was wrong, Shiro could sense it. Lotor was too confident, too sure of himself. The prince had a plan, knew something that he did not. He growled, taking a step out of the prince's looming presence. He would not let Lotor win. An acrid retort burned on the tip of his tongue and he fought valiantly to bite it back. But he could not--the blood roared in his ears, demanding at least one verbal barb for all he had endured.

Shiro's mouth quirked into a devious grin. "If that's what you think, then you're even stupider than I thought. You'll never get a litter off of Keith."

Lotor sniffed, disinterested. "The bitch will have no say in it."

"Keith is barren. He can't bear children." His grin widened as shock bloomed on the prince's face, the man's eyes widening in disbelief before narrowing in offense. "You could try to breed him for years and you would never succeed. Your great plans were dead before they even began."

"You lie."

"I wish I were lying. Keith dreamed of carrying our litter. He wanted nothing more than to be filled with our pups. He was crushed when he found out he was barren." He paused, baring his teeth in a mocking grin. "I bet when you forced your disgusting hands on him, he thanked every god he knew that he couldn't get with child."

There was no warning as the blow fell across Shiro's forehead, forcing him back a step. He cried out in alarm as the knife blade sliced into his flesh. Lotor moved like lightening when he was in a fury, his blade swinging wildly and with such ferocity, Shiro could barely deflect it. Gashes began appearing on his body, tearing at his biceps, his collar, both cheeks. And yet they were never too deep, merely shallow wounds meant to inflict pain and little more.

Shiro stumbled when the blade cut into the side of his knee, an arc of blood splashing across the floor. 

The alpha rage had abated some, but Shiro could tell from the way Lotor's breath came in labored puffs and from the smell of him that the man was fighting his rage. When the prince took a step closer and knelt by his side, he braced himself for another barrage of attacks. To his utter confusion, Lotor leaned into his ear, skin on skin, and growled, 

"See how he loves you now."

==============

Hunk stared at the clock Pidge had installed on his console, biting his lip anxiously. "He's late." he said worriedly.

A chorus of equally anxious voices answered. 

"I'm going back in." Pidge announced after a tense minute, standing from her console and moving towards the lion's maw. 

"I'm going with you." Lance called."Keith will kill us if we don't bring Shiro back in one piece."

That was a lesser worry in Pidge's mind. As they retraced their steps back to the hall where they had split, she considered what might have happened. Calling the man's name over the communication line garnered no results. Perhaps Shiro had turned the line off? She doubted it; that communication line was often their life line. Perhaps his helmet had been damaged then. A logical explanation--and one that sat heavily in her stomach. 

"Wait." Lance grabbed her arm suddenly, leveling his pistol at a shadow moving in the distance.

She drew her own bayard, preparing to attack. "Identify yourself!"

A soft groan answered, then, "Sh-Shiro..."

"Shiro?!"

They darted forward, gasping at the tattered state of their leader. Jamming her shoulder beneath the man's arm, Pidge wrapped Shiro's arm around her shoulder and hefted him fully to his feet. He was weak, both she and Lance saw. A storm of wounds covered his face and body, a particularly nasty one arcing across the man's forehead. It would not leave a scar, she thought. Many though they were, the injuries looked minor. The sheer number though...

"What happened?" she asked gently, hobbling towards the waiting lions.

Shiro growled, gritting his teeth as he attempted to put weight on the leg Lotor had injured. "I--I'll tell you later."

They needed to leave. Although Lotor had shown no interest in continuing their battle, he did not want to test the limits of the prince’s patience. If they were being granted leave, he would take it. Live today, fight tomorrow. They would face the prince at a later time, of their own choosing, when they had the full force of the Voltron coalition to support them. If it were just the prince, they might have been able to take him, Shiro reasoned. But they could never be certain. Lotor was filled with surprises. He was entirely unpredictable.

Easing into Black's cockpit, he grimaced and clenched a hand over his wounded knee. A minor injury, but an inconvenient one. They needed to flee, he reminded himself with a deep frown. He was not fit for battle. Raging or not, he could not take Lotor while he was hobbling and favoring one leg. There was a time and a place for exacting his revenge on Lotor and this was not it.

How stupid he had been, Shiro bemoaned to himself as they returned to the castle. He should have guessed that something was amiss when they laid eyes on the base. It was far too large to be anything but a former base; no communication hub or refueling station would be so massive. Splitting them up—what had he been thinking? They should have gone in pairs at the very least.

Should have, would have, could have, he hissed to himself. What was done, was done. Keith was safe in the castle, he tried to concentrate on that blessing. They had fallen into the trap but still Lotor had walked away empty handed. An unintentional victory was still a victory. But it reminded him of something…

Keith had located that base. _How?_ Shiro was no longer certain if he believed that his mate had the latent ability to sense his kind. None of the galra he had met up to that point had such a skill and there had been no living person at that base, save Lotor. He surmised then, with a sinking, twisting feeling in his gut, that Keith was not so much honing in on his galra kin, but on prince Lotor himself.

_How?_

The alpha snapped peevishly in his mind, torn between rut lust and blinding rage at Lotor’s presumption. As they drew closer to the castle, he could feel the draw of Keith’s heat, urging him home. A wave of relief crested over him and he sank back into his seat, imagining a pleasant evening locked in his mate’s warm embrace, swelling inside Keith’s body, claiming him, filling him, marking him.

_Wait…_

All at once the mystery came together, the pieces slamming together. _The mating mark!_ Of course. Just as he could feel Keith through the mark the man had left on him, Keith could feel Lotor’s presence via the ugly mark the prince had left on him. Shiro clenched his fists, uncertain how to feel about the revelation. A part of him praised his mate for his resourcefulness. A much stronger, louder part howled in protest. Lotor had no place to mark his mate and he wanted that scar banished. That Keith had continually brushed his desires aside made him growl unhappily. They would be having words.

====

With the indignant alpha guiding him, he limped from the hangar and began towards the paladin quarters. Behind him, Lance and Pidge were calling his name, the lot of them chasing after, urging him to the medbay. Later, he snapped over his shoulder. There were more pressing matters. He could sense Keith stirring, drawn by his mate's rut and his own heat, searching out his alpha. With each step Keith took towards them, the harder it became for Shiro to focus. Instinct demanded he seek out and dominate. Sense told him better. 

“Shiro,” Pidge drew to his side, “you should get your knee looked at right away.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You’re limping.”

“I said it’s not that bad.”

She huffed in irritation, to which he snarled. He was in no mood to be tutted by a fellow alpha. An argument would have broken out, had Coran not sidled out from the shadows, all smiles and happy words, congratulating them on a successful mission. As always, he was able to diffuse the situation. He was a skilled diplomat, even among the paladins.

Shiro took a deep breath, forcing calm. “I’ll go to the medical bay later. Right now I have to speak to Keith.”

“Keith?” Coran lifted a brow. “He’s been in his room the last few days. I believe one of the doctors went to see him earlier. He may be resting right--”

“I’m here.” a light voice called. 

They turned collectively, watching the man slink out of the shadows, dim light casting an eerie glow on his pale skin. Keith paused, lifting his chin and taking a delicate sniff. His features contorted. 

Shiro felt relief and irritation all at once, seeing his mate safe. “Keith.”

He took a step forward, thinking of steering his mate to a quiet spot where they might talk. _Don’t be upset_ , he told himself, moving forward. Keith had been thinking of the mission, ever the practical paladin. There hadn’t been any real harm done, although a warning that they might run into Lotor would have been much appreciated.

“Keith, we need to--”

The man snarled suddenly, hunching in warning. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” 

Shiro froze, eyes widening in dismay as he stared at his mate. Keith’s eyes were narrow, lips pulled back and teeth bared. His hunched, tense posture screamed ‘attack’ and instinctively Shiro’s hand moved to his bayard.

“Baby, what’s wr--”

Keith’s gaze snapped towards Pidge and Allura accusingly. “What were you thinking?! How could you bring him here?! ”

The women exchanged confused looks.

Lance stepped forward, hands lifted in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, calm down. What are you talking about? It’s us. The team. Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Shiro. You know, your mate, Shiro.”

Uncertainty crept into Keith’s eyes and his gaze swung between each paladin frantically, lingering a long moment on Shiro. His fingers twitched anxiously. Every few moments a distressed huff would puff past his lips and Shiro felt his heart ache. His mate was in turmoil. He needed to go to him.

Step by careful step, he approached, sending out the strongest, soothing pheromones he could muster. Coran smiled encouragingly at him over Keith’s shoulder, emboldening him.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re all here. We’re all safe. _You’re_ safe.”

He reached out, intending to take the man’s hand, but Keith moved first, twisting away with a yowl and lashing out violently. Shiro yelped, stumbling back a step, hand flying to his cheek. His fingertips came away smeared in blood and he cringed. Pain registered a moment later. In his stupor, he moved forward again, lifting his bloodied hand towards his mate.

The action was not taken well. Interpreting his move as a threat, Keith screamed again, drawing his dagger and making a desperate lunge. The blade narrowly missed Shiro’s shoulder and it was Pidge’s hasty yank backwards that saved him from being impaled in his shock. Hunk and Lance surged forward as he stumbled back, grabbing Keith up under the arms and grappling with him.

“Drop the knife!” Lance demanded.

Keith spat in his face. “You idiots! Why did you bring him here?!”

“Buddy,” Hunk pleaded, “drop the knife! You’re safe!”

“He’s going to kill us! He’ll kill us all!”

Shiro choked back a sob of distress. Allura and Pidge laid hands upon him, gently urging him away. He could not go. Shiro refused. Something terrible was happening in his mate’s mind and he had to sooth the hurt. Each step he took forward though, the others pulled him back. Keith snapped and snarled at him as he struggled in the others' grasps, cursing and threatening with every ounce of venom in his body.

“S-stop.” Shiro whispered. “You’re hurting him!”

A bolt of pressure on Keith’s wrist forced him to release the dagger and he howled as if wounded. He looked crazed, like a wild beast. Feral, Shiro's mind supplied miserably. The commotion was enough to draw the attention of the Blades, even several floors away. They ran towards the fray, easily pushing Hunk and Lance out of the way and subduing Keith. Knair yanked the man back several paces, hissing into his ear, warning him to be calm, lest she sedate him. The alpha snapped in the back of Shiro’s mind, taking offense at the threat and ill treatment.

“Stop handling him like that!” he demanded, rushing closer.

Ryvaina jerked a hand out to stall him. He skidded to a halt just as Keith opened his mouth and released a long, deep roar of aggression. It was nothing compared to an alpha roar, but it was dark, angry, and filled with warning. A shudder ran up Shiro’s spine and he felt something crack inside of him.

“Leave him with us, alpha.” Ryvaina commanded, jerking Keith by the shoulder and urging him to his room with gentle words.

Knair huffed, dragging him along in her wake.

“He’ll kill us!” Keith screeched as he was dragged, twisting wildly in the grasp of the Blades. “He’s going to kill us all! He’s going to kill us! He will!”

Shiro slammed his hands over his ears, drowning out the manic screaming. _Not again…_

Coran turned to him with a sorrowful expression. The man approached slowly, mindful that he not offend the alpha further, and lifted a hand to Shiro’s still bleeding cheek. “Come now, let’s get you patched up.”

Shiro sighed, limbs heavy, mind exhausted. Suddenly the medbay seemed like a fine idea. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s—alright.”

He ignored the looks of shock and pity the others sent him as he passed. He did not want their pity. He did not want to hear any well-meaning, kind words at the moment. Even Coran, the most soothing person after Keith, could not chase away the lingering misery. He had known that this would happen. Someday the ghosts of their past would rear their ugly heads and come back to haunt them. Recovery was never a clean path, he knew that from ample personal experience. That they had made it so long without a setback was remarkable. A few hiccups now and then, yes, but never anything so severe as this.

They were due, he thought darkly. It was just odd that it had not been him to fall back into his nightmares. Keith did not deserve this emotional anguish. That he was the cause of it hurt Shiro nearly as much as the fact that he could not go and sooth his mate. Perhaps, he thought with dawning clarity, that was Lotor’s plan.

====

Melancholy had settled over the paladins, their displeasure at their fruitless mission exponentially worse after the homecoming they had received. It was as if they were reliving the dark days of Shiro's return. Theories abound as to what had happened to Shiro during the mission and how that had bled over to Keith. They all agreed on one thing: they had never seen Keith react so violently to anyone. The man was temperamental, but never physically violent. It had been alarming to witness.

“I wonder what happened.” Lance asked in a hushed voice, tapping mindlessly on his tablet. “I haven’t seen Keith like that since--”

“Since Lotor attacked.” Shiro finished, stepping into the room with a frustrated sigh. 

The paladins leaped to their feet. Their eyes traveled over his stitched cheek and bandaged leg, faces contorting into grimaces. It was an ugly sight, but one they ought to have been used to. Injuries were sadly common among them. He supposed the shock was from the fact that the worst wound had been dealt by one of their own. Shaking his head, Shiro stepped into the center of the room and fixed them with a harsh stare.

“Lotor is still trying to use his attack on Keith to manipulate us.”

Allura’s frown deepened. “How so?”

“He was at the base with us. He cornered me.” He raised his hands to shush the cries of alarm and demands for answers. “He had drawn us in because he wanted Keith. He thought Keith was with me, but when he realized that Keith wasn’t there at all, he attacked. At first I was confused as to why he wasn’t attacking with his full force, but--”

“Why wasn’t he?” Lance cut in shortly. They knew from a glance at Shiro that the battle had been little more than a sparring match. The issue then was why Lotor was toying with them.

Shiro sighed. “Lotor had no intention of killing me or even seriously hurting me. He wanted me to return to the castle.”

“Why?” Hunk asked.

“So that I would drive Keith insane.”

A hush fell over the room. It was much like the first stays of Shiro’s return, they all realized. Shiro could not get within five feet of Keith without the man breaking into a fit of aggression. Except it was worse now. Far worse.

Hunk twisted his mouth into a grimace, puzzling over the particulars. “How did he get you to—did he inject you with more feral serum? How did he know that Keith would react that way? He just saw you and flipped out.

“Oh.” Pidge’s voice was sad. “No, Hunk. You and Lance wouldn’t be able to tell. It’s the smell.”

“Smell?” Lance echoed.

Shiro nodded. “He—scented me. He knows that Keith reacts badly, shall we say, to his scent. So he laid it on me and sent me back to the castle, knowing that Keith would react.”

Devious animal. It was a clever and ingenious tactic and one that they could not fight against. There was no battling biology. Already Shiro had showered, scrubbing furiously at his skin until it was pink and raw, even bleeding in spots. He needed the scent off of him. Even he was beginning to respond violently to the prince’s stench. Still, it lingered on his skin, powerful and dangerous. It would be some time before he could be allowed near Keith once more. The thought made him scowl and he clenched his fists at his sides.

“No more delaying.” he declared, lifting his gaze and fixing them with a determined expression. “It’s time to gather the coalition. We’ll formulate a plan and we will attack Lotor. It’s time. We need to destroy him before he destroys Voltron from the inside out.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History repeats itself...or at least, it's cyclical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm...back there again, eh?
> 
> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments! So glad you're still loving the story! We might actually wrap this up by the end of the year lol

Kolivan was the first of the coalition to arrive, flanked by his strongest, most high ranking soldiers. He met the paladins with as much respect as he could muster, though it was evident from the man's tight, unusually colder demeanor that he was put out with the Voltron team. Word had immediately been sent to Kolivan of Keith's relapse with a request for further medical assistance. They were fumbling the omega's treatment. None were pleased at the turn of favor, but it appeared none more so--save Shiro--than Kolivan. He had taken Keith in as a 'cub' and taught him the ways of the Blade of Marmora, guiding, mentoring, caring for him in so much as Kolivan was able to do. He exerted a good deal of time and energy on the tiny Blade. 

"You were reckless." The man snapped peevishly, having cornered Shiro immediately after their arrival. 

It was disconcerting, being alone with an eight foot tall galra, built of solid bone and muscle, exuding annoyance that was aimed directly at him. Although the conference room seemed like a poor location for a murder, Shiro would not put anything past Kolivan or the Blades. Practical and stoic as they were, even they had tempers he did not like to press. 

Shiro sighed, dropping his eyes guiltily. He was becoming uncomfortably familiar with the patterns of the floor. He could not bear to look people in the eyes suddenly, seeing behind their gazes judgments and admonishments. As if his own conscience weren't berating him enough.

"I know."

"That you allowed yourself within the prince's grasp was equally as foolish. More so. You could have been reduced to nothing more than a feral beast and beset upon your teammates."

"I know!"

Kolivan narrowed his glowing eyes. "You know and yet you continue to ignore the dangerous consequences to your actions. If this is a habit to be continued, we will take the cub where his safety and health can be assured."

A warning growl slipped from his mouth before Shiro could stop it. "I would appreciate it if you didn't threaten me."

"No threat." Kolivan said. "A promise."

He had been in a foul mood all day thereafter. He had earned the scorn, Shiro told himself, but he had spent a hellish week separated from his mate, made all the worse by his rut. Keith would be suffering as well, he knew, but his mate's heat should have been winding down by then. A pang of disappointment struck him; he had hoped that they would be able to share at least one more rutting while they were both in primal mode. It was not to be though. Ryvaina and Knair were tight lipped on Keith's health and his whereabouts. The implication that he might be a threat to the man hurt Shiro more than he wished to think on.

His rut ended in a period of depression, his alpha side swooning miserably, longing for his mate. If he concentrated hard enough, Shiro thought that he could smell the tendrils of Keith's heat scent wafting around the castle. _Best not to dwell on it_ , he warned himself. If Kolivan did not trust his strength of will, then perhaps there was still danger lurking within him. He did not want to test the theory.

Instinct was instinct though and try as he might, he could not fight the impulse to seek out and protect. As he meandered about the castle, pacing the halls in brooding while the rest of the team slept, he caught Keith's scent. He was immediately drawn by the last lingering echoes of his mate's heat, but broke into a run upon realizing that, overpowering that sweet, submissive scent, was a far more sour one: fear.

His sense of smell had truly suffered from his latest captivity; he had checked nearly a dozen rooms, mistaking them as the source of the smell, before he came to the right room. A powerful wash of Keith's personal scent struck him as the door slid open and Shiro sighed in relief, stepping inside.

"Baby?" he called gently. "Are you alright?"

A frantic murmuring reached his ears. It sounded like Keith, but he was uncertain. Keith wasn't a mumbler, nor did he typically hiss and slur. Unless he was drunk or greatly agitated. Shiro tended to think neither of those were true...or so he hoped.

"...Baby?"

"Over here." the man snapped at him, waving a hand once before returning to his work.

Shiro circled around the room, noting that he had not yet been in this part of the castle. From the looks of it, it appeared to be a royal bedchamber, with grand arching ceilings and a bed to put their humble mattress to shame. It had been in use recently, if the rumpled blankets were indication. So this is where his mate had been hiding away.

On the opposite side of the bed, Keith was hunched on the floor, a dozen screens open in front of him, fingers darting from one image to the next. Shiro scanned each screen, frowning as he saw images of galra fleets, druid meetings, and all number of military exercises. How he saw past the fall of loose, uncombed hair, Shiro did not know. It looked like Keith hadn't brushed his hair in days, it was so tangled. In the glow of the screens, Keith's face was sallow, expression intense and pinched. Whatever he was doing, he was deeply concentrating. There was something wrong though. Immovable as the man's mask was, Shiro could still smell the acrid, unpleasant scent of fear. 

A soft rumble vibrated from Shiro's chest, breaking Keith's concentration. He glanced up at the alpha, grimacing.

"What?"

Shiro's frown deepened. "It's nothing, I just--I'm not used to seeing you scared."

Keith regarded him blankly for a moment before snorting and turning back to his work. "I'm always scared." he said somberly. "Since the day you disappeared--there hasn't been a waking moment when I wasn't terrified."

That did not allay any of Shiro's guilt at his misguided attempt to rescue a dead man. He knew his disappearance had disastrous consequences on his mate's psyche. He loathed knowing that he was the root of Keith's unease. Loathed even more that he caused the man to feel fear. 

Dropping to a crouch, he took hold of his mate's hand, pulling it from the screen he was working on. "Keith, you don't have to be afraid any more. I'm here now."

The man looked at him, brows drawn, expression uncertain. It was not so simple, they both knew. Damaged as they were, so far from the people they had once been, there was no telling when the demons of the past would rear their twisted, ugly heads. Whether they fought against the demons or not, their strength would fail time and again in the face of their traumas. There were nights Shiro still dreamed of the battle arena, years after the fact. When he woke in a cold sweat, dizzy and lost for several horrible seconds, he could feel the fear clutching at his heart. 

"I can't make it better." Shiro admitted bitterly, running his thumb across his mate's palm. "I can't promise that I will always be able to chase away your fears. Given everything that's happened, I have to accept that sometimes I might even be the cause of those fears." 

Keith keened gently, agreeing sadly.

"The only thing that I can swear is that I will always try to ease whatever pain you're suffering. If you're afraid because of Lotor, I will make sure we are far away from him. If you're afraid of me--I'll do the same." He paused, fighting back a huff of dismay. "The only thing that matters to me is your happiness."

Keith sighed, eyes darting to the fading scabs running jaggedly across the man's cheek. He had done that. He had drawn blood from his own mate. Shame fell upon him like a crushing boulder. He curled his fingers around Shiro's own, squeezing gently. 

"I know that you only want what's best for me. I'm only sorry that Lotor has this much power over--me." 

He could not rightfully say 'us'; thanks to the tireless efforts of the Blade of Marmora, Shiro was all but recovered. The man would be taking serum doses likely for the remainder of his life, but Shiro was in control of himself once more. It was himself, Keith thought sourly, that was still violently plagued by the memories of the past. At least his mate had the strength to overcome his past. He was weak in comparison. Shiro deserved better.

Stern hands grabbed his shoulder suddenly, hauling him into Shiro's broad chest and warm embrace.

"Whatever you're thinking," the man growled, "stop."

"I'm weak..."

"You're the strongest person I know."

Keith snorted, pressing his cheek into the side of the man's neck. "I jump at my own shadow now."

"You haven't taken the time to properly recover." Shiro soothed, lifting a hand to stroke through the man's unruly hair. "You've been through so much in the past months."

"Far less than you have."

"That doesn't invalidate everything you've been through, Keith." He pulled back a bit, taking the man's face in hand and staring into the depths of his stormy eyes. "We have both been through hell. It isn't fair to either of us to compare traumas. All that's important is that we still have each other. You're the only thing that could save me."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Keith's mouth. "That's because you keep disappearing on me."

Shiro couldn't help but laugh, pulling his mate into his arms once more. "It's a habit I'm praying to break."

=============

Fingertips danced over the exposed flesh of Shiro's back, eliciting a shiver of interest. He peeled his eyelids open, blinking bleary eyes. A fold of rumpled blanket pressed against his cheek, the softest he had felt in years. He had quickly seen why Keith had relocated to this grand room. Size aside, the bedding was plush and soft, like rolling in a cloud of bliss. They had curled up beneath the layers, pressing close, kissing and petting one another. Cocooned as they were in a nest of warmth and one another's smell, they both drifted to sleep easily. 

"I think we should take these blankets back to our room." he slurred groggily, working his mouth a moment to help ease the task of speaking.

Keith hummed in agreement, burying his face deeper into the blanket.

_Finally happy_ , Shiro thought with a thrum of pride. Keith deserved happiness. He deserved a life of rest and ease, something he knew would be difficult to come by. If all went well though, they might be on their way towards an end to the war. The idea of allowing his mate to rest drove him more than the idea of peace.

"We'll be on Olikari soon." he whispered into the waves of Keith's loose hair. A soft keen answered him. "I think we should get out of the castle for a bit."

Keith keened again, on the verge of slumber.

Particulars could be discussed later. Let them rest. The alpha was quiet in his mind, having curled up happily, dowsed in the smell of its content omega. Sighing, Shiro laid his head back down, taking a moment to trace his mate's sleeping expression with his eyes. 

_You're perfect..._

How had he gotten so lucky? Growling happily, he pulled Keith's limp body into his arms, nuzzling his face into the man's neck and inhaling his scent. Keith shifted slightly, adjusting to the embrace before falling back into deep sleep. 

He could stay like this forever, Shiro thought. This was what he was fighting for now. 

===============

Rest, it seemed, was exactly what Keith needed. Shortly after arriving on Olikari, they gathered up the best of their bedding, waved goodbye to the rest of the paladins, and made themselves comfortable in the guest quarters offered by their hosts. There was ample for them to do, but Shiro made an effort to take over as many of the responsibilities as he could so that his mate could rest. He had a sinking suspicion Knair was getting close to prohibiting Keith from partaking in preparations, which they could not afford. If a little extra burden on himself saved Keith some trouble and kept the man in the loop, so be it.

"You shouldn't push yourself so much." Keith scolded him while they bathed one evening, skilled fingers massaging his mate's scalp. "At this rate, you're going to drop dead of a stress heart attack at age 50."

Shiro hummed, leaning into the man's body and rumbling in pleasure at the touch. 

"I'm serious, Shiro."

"I know, baby." he sighed, feeling his muscles grow lax after a tiring day. "It will all be over soon."

Keith did not immediately respond; his fingers stilled a moment. He craned his neck over Shiro's shoulder and eyed him carefully. "You realize that the war doesn't end with the defeat of Lotor, don't you?"

Unfortunately, yes, Shiro did. The clean up would be an astronomical effort. They had learned from their prior mistakes of liberating planets and leaving them defenseless to be re-conquered, but they had an entire universe they needed to tend to. Tracking down stray galra factions, liberating the rest of the planets, rebuilding the government infrastructure of each society, planet, galaxy, and the universe... It would be a task that would still be under construction long after their lives, Shiro was certain. 

He sighed again, pulling Keith's hand to his lips. "Defeat Lotor and we get rid of the worst obstacle. The aftermath will be a mess, but...he won't be our problem any longer."

"A new despot will rise in his place. They always do."

"And whoever that may be, their reign will be in its fledgling stage and easy to squash."

Keith shook his head. Why argue the future? They had to kill Lotor first. Once they got into the next stage of the war, they could debate all they wanted. He was silent the remainder of their bath, allowing each gentle touch of Shiro's hand, reciprocating as much as he could, before slipping from the water and answering the luring call of their bed. He had barely taken the time to dry off before throwing himself naked into the blankets, wrapping them tightly around his body and burying his face into a pillow.

Shiro chuckled at the sight, striding from the bathroom with a towel knotted around his waist. He admired the view for a moment, unable to keep the smile from his face. After thoroughly toweling dry, he carefully eased into his side of the bed, mindful not to try and steal what Keith had claimed as his share of the blankets--which was about 80% of them. It was a sacrifice Shiro was happy to make. Laying on his side, edge of the blanket draped over his hip, he leaned over and brushed a hand through his mate's long, damp hair.

"Still tired?" he asked softly.

Keith groaned, peeling his eyes open long enough to nod before shutting them once more.

"Two weeks is a long time to be in heat."

"S'not so bad when you're there."

That was true, Shiro supposed. Although, the rumor that sharing a heat with an alpha made the heat shorter did not seem to be true in Keith's case. Circumstances, he reasoned, shifting closer and pulling the man into his arms. The intoxicating smell of heat had left Keith's skin, but the rich scent of male omega was just as potent and alluring. He could drink in that scent forever and never grow tired of it.

He drifted off the idea of spending the remainder of his days cocooned in a warm, safe nest with his mate, breathing in a cloud of Keith's scent. After all they had been through, it seemed little enough to ask. 

================

The air was still, the bed cold when Keith forced his eyes opened. He was alone, he could sense that much. In his addled memory, he thought he recalled Shiro kissing him awake and whispering something about an evening meeting with some of the recently arrived coalition members. He wasn't entirely certain; his memories were questionable when his mind was still half asleep. Shiro could have silently slipped from bed and he merely dreamed up the exchange to explain the man's absence.

It didn't matter, he thought, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He had his own matters to tend to. Knair wished to perform yet another examination and he wished to return to the training hall. With his heat over--for however long that might be--he found he had a bit of energy once more. He was determined to put it to good use. His back flip needed work.

"Let's get this over with." he grumbled, walking into the infirmary where Knair and several other doctors had set up shop. 

She regarded him with her usual passive expression, waving him into a tiny closet of an examination room. Her fingers this time were gentle, though prodding. It gave Keith a bit of pause and at a particularly hard jab of her fingers, he slapped her hand away.

" _What_ are you doing?"

She frowned slightly. "You should have begun to gain weight back. You only have gained a pound."

He shrugged. "I don't have much of an appetite when I go into heat. And my heats have been long recently."

"Has your medication been making you ill still?"

"Yes. Not as bad as it was, but--yes." 

He would never be rid of the sickness, Keith had grown certain. Months and months of the varying medication and he still was ill to his stomach at times. He was observant though; he had noticed several similarities between his spells, hunched over the toilet or heaving into the nearest trash receptacle. 'Don't move after eating' had become his cardinal rule. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner--it did not matter the time of day; if he tempted his stomach by even so much as a brisk walk, he would suffer the consequences. An hour at least was needed before he could safely be up and about. A few hours after that, he could be fully active.

His thoughts darted to the large lunch he and Shiro had partaken of in the seclusion of their room. That had been at least three hours ago, he wagered. It made him all the more anxious to finish with Knair and get to the training hall. 

The woman sighed at his state, declaring him fit--for now--to continue with light duties. He did not mention that already they had begun plans of their coming assault and he figured prominently in said plans. 

Yanking his clothes on, he hastily left the medical ward and wove his way through the crowded halls. Every day there seemed to be a dozen new ships docking at the base, flooding them with politicians and soldiers. He had studied them all from their window, frowning at the fact that the number of ambassadors outweighed fighters seven to one. That would not do; they needed the full fighting force of the entirety of the rebellion if they were truly going ahead with this half cocked plan to take on Prince Lotor. 

Many of the soldiers recognized him, some having joined the rebellion when he was the Red Paladin, others when he had taken over as Head of Voltron. Bitch as some claimed he was, they deferred to him and moved aside when he entered the training hall and set to work. It was good to see he still possessed some air of importance...though he supposed that could also be Shiro's influence. Rumors of Shiro's possessiveness and protectiveness had traveled far and wide. They were the subject of much gossip.

_Let them talk_ , Keith growled internally, taking several minutes to stretch his muscles before launching into the rigorous routine he had set for himself.

As he moved about the room, he noted the eyes following his steps, tracking each of his movements. The dark part of his mind, paranoid and frightened, hissed that they were studying him to gauge his weakness. They had laughed at him for years, jeering the omega who had come to hold the greatest seat of power in the free universe. In their eyes, he had received his just rewards with Lotor's assaults. The bitch had been put in his place.

A bark of anger slipped past his lips. Who were they to judge him? If they thought themselves better than him, then they were as low as Lotor. Worse even. Lotor knew he was evil scum and relished that fact. He did not parade around, touting himself as a defender of freedom. He was evil incarnate and he let all the universe know it. 

_Fucking alphas_ , he growled, throwing a high kick at the heavy punching bag he had claimed as his own. 

Save Shiro, he had never met an alpha he liked. He was not wired to deal with arrogant, self-righteous asses. When alphas tried to throw their weight around, he threw it right back. Even Pidge and Allura had taken time for him to warm up to. Female alphas, he found easier to deal with. Males though...why did male alphas have to be so difficult? He whapped furiously at the bag, minding to keep his sharp nails turned in. He did not think the Olikari would appreciate their equipment torn in a fit of venting.The last thing he needed was more enemies. 

Why did his life have to be so complicated, he bemoaned in a moment of self-pity. It had never been easy. Stolen from his father, tossed from foster home to foster home, abandoned by the man he thought he could come to replace the visage of his father, enduring hell at the hands of the alphas at the garrison---being in space had not made anything better. He had been delivered right into the hands of the darkest entity to ever walk the planets. 

Fucking fate. If there was a god, Keith was certain that god was an alpha and therefore hated him. 

"Fucking...Alphas!"

A roundhouse kick sent the bag flying backwards, crashing into the wall before flying forward, into Keith's waiting fists. 

_Not fair._

Always the loser. Always losing something. Why did he always have to suffer? Why couldn't he just have the one thing he wanted most? 

_Not fair. NOT fair._

Why was he always losing Shiro? That was all he needed. Shiro. Shiro made the stars bright again. Shiro chased away all hurts, made him safe. The universe did not seem so unkind as long as he had his mate. Yet the man was always being ripped from him.

_Not fair? Not fair! Not fair!_

His knuckles cracked as he sent the bag flying again. A tremor of pain sang through his hand and he stepped back, out of the path of the swinging bag. It was time to stop. He had done well for the day. His strength was returning, bit by bit. Judging by the tense looks of the soldiers around him, he had reasserted his place as more than just an omega to step on. Almost, he took another swing at the punching bag with his nails out, keenly liking the idea of putting the fear of disembowelment in their heads. That would be rude to their hosts though. 

Pressing gently on his swollen knuckles, he turned towards the door and paused abruptly.

Shiro's eyes gleamed across the distance, filled with pride and lust. How long the man had been standing there, Keith could not say, but long enough for his mate to grow rigid with interest. Several paces away, he could smell the arousal rolling off of the man. Heat or not, Keith felt himself answering. Blooded pounded in his veins and he was ready to lose himself to another session of physical strain, one of a much different sort. He shot Shiro a grin as he deliberately walked past. 

"You look strong." Shiro commented, following on the his heels. 

Keith tried not to feel too pleased by the observation. "I _feel_ stronger."

An arm slid around his waist and he was pulled tightly to Shiro's side. Desire danced dangerously between them as they began to stumble, arms tangled around one another, stealing feverish kisses when they could. 

"I want you." Shiro growled, leaned forward to tug at his mate's lobe with his teeth.

Keith hummed wantonly, baring his neck submissively. "Not in public, dear."

"Why not? These people have forgotten who you are. You're _mine_." He growled again, low and threatening. "I could bend you over during our conference and rut you right into the table, make sure they know who you belong to, and if they even look at you strange they'll answer to me."

Lurid images flooded both of their minds, vivid scenarios coming to life with the aid of their rushing pheromones. Keith's knees began shaking. He refused to admit that the proposal held some appeal. He was not a bitch--but he did belong to Shiro. For Shiro, he would submit, lay down, beg prettily. He would refuse nothing Shiro asked for. 

No time for such games, he thought, dragging Shiro to their room and shoving him to bed. He wasted no time getting to his knees and working the man's pants down his legs. Shiro rumbled, pleased at his mate's enthusiasm, and threaded fingers through the man's long bangs. It was quick and sloppy, not lasting nearly long enough, but it was enough. When he had spilled inside of Keith's mouth, Shiro dragged his mate onto the bed with him.

"Turn over for me." Shiro panted, pawing needily at Keith's thigh. He needed to rut. He needed to be buried to his balls in his mate's sweet, warm body. 

Keith hummed, pulling the blankets over his lithe body petulantly. "Tell me about the meeting first."

"Keith."

"Shiro."

He would not be moved. No amount of pleading or cajoling would get Keith to change his mind. Sighing in frustration, Shiro pulled a scrap of blanket over himself. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts and recall what had been discussed with the coalition members. Formal greetings, welcomes, taking stock of soldiers--ah, yes, the important details.

"We don't have enough soldiers yet." Shiro stated, fingers sneaking beneath the covers to caress the ridge of his mate's hip.

Keith grunted. "I figured. And our artillery? And ships?"

"About as bad. It looks like a lot when you see it at a distance, but with the numbers Pidge showed us a few days ago...it won't be enough. We need some real force behind us." He hesitated a moment. "I'm a bit worried."

"Worried?"

"We have to assume that Lotor will be expecting us. He's predicted our every move up to this point, stayed ahead of us at all turns. Whether he's just incredibly smart or he has some deep rooted spies, who knows. Whatever the case, we can't play it fast and loose this time. This needs to be a carefully calculated attack."

That was obvious when they first began in this war. Lotor had never been one to trifle with. Expected or not, Keith knew they would have difficulty with their attack. They needed to be swift, cunning, and overpowering. 

"You need to expand the coalition then. Get more militaristic planets involved."

"Keith, I think we've scoured the universe by this point and have almost as many military allies as we can muster."

The side of Keith's mouth twitched into a rueful smile. "There is one planet left."

Shiro raised a brow. "Oh?"

"There's a planet, almost as technologically advanced as the galra. Their ships are fast and are capable of carrying thousands of soldiers and artillery units. Their weapons are beyond anything the rest of our allies possess."

How had he not heard of these people, Shiro wondered. Whoever this race was, they should have been some of the first allies Voltron tried to recruit. 

"Do you know where to find these people?"

A bark of dark laughter left Keith. "Oh, yes."

"You tried to form an alliance with them before?"

"Several times. They weren't fond of me."

Shiro snarled. "Why? What did they do to you?"

"Oh, calm down, alpha. You'll do much better than I did, if you go back and request their aid."

If someone had taken issue with Keith as leader of the rebellion, Shiro doubted he wanted to have anything to do with them. Did the need for military strength outweigh the demands of his conscious? Could he form an alliance, knowing he disagreed with a planet's core principals? It would be difficult, but Shiro knew he had to. When Lotor was defeated and the empire disbanded, he could make a stern and clear declaration of how he viewed the poor treatment of omegas. Until that day, they would all need to grin and bear it.

"Where is the planet?" he asked sourly.

"You've already been there."

"I have?"

The expression on Keith's face altered. He could no longer contain his displeasure. "Just remember, we need their help."

"Keith--"

"You need to go back to Bartarol, where our fish friends are."

Without thought, Shiro bared his teeth. Never would he ever return to that filthy planet. Anyone who disrespected his mate disrespected him and they had both been thoroughly disgraced during their last visit.

==================

The young omega girl dropped to a knee before her lord, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder at the set of paladins trailing her. The scent of omega male tickled her nose, teasing her. Donned as he was in full battle armor, weapon at his hip, he did not look like the typical omega. His eyes darted downwards to stare at her and she gulped, jerking her head forward.

"The--the paladins of Voltron, my Lord!"

Her master grunted, dismissing her with a casual wave of his fingers. His black eyes flitted over the two warriors standing before him and he frowned. It was not the display of respect he had expected.

Shiro inclined his head politely. "Lord Maurvos. We're grateful for you taking the time to further discuss an alliance with the Voltron coalition."

Had Keith not had impeccable control of his features, he would have been grinning. He gave Shiro credit; the man spoke with only the slightest grit of his teeth. After the hellish argument that had broken out, convincing the man that he needed to play nice with these people, he had not been certain how the alpha would react. As of late, Shiro's diplomatic side had been waning, finding more interest in pursuing his mate and correcting injustices done onto them. He chalked it up to the alpha serum and thought little on it. He wasn't exactly adverse to the idea of his mate putting people in their places. 

Shiro was not willing to drop the issue of their disastrous prior meeting. With proper greetings out of the way, he wove his arm around Keith's waist and pulled the man to his side. "Do forgive me; the last time we met I was recovering from an illness. I don't believe I properly introduced you to my mate."


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unsavory truth about politics is that often you have to do what you don't really want to do. Shiro felt that his hand has been forced. Oddly though, Keith did not seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the math; we've got about 5 more chapters left! Can you believe it! Over 30 chapters! Are you excited, because I am!
> 
> Should still be set to update next Friday. Four day weekend, hell yeah!
> 
> I also set up a Ko-fi page, if anyone is interested in donating. The link is over on my Kittypox tumblr. 
> 
> Cheers!

Deep inside the castle, the picturesque facade of quiet amity gave way to something heavier, something more sinister which Shiro had entirely overlooked his first time on the planet. Past the mask of gilded gold and halls of alabaster, he noted the signs of militaristic power. Each door they passed, each hall, was carefully guarded by a set of sentries, armed and armored with weaponry that could rival their paladin gear. Shiro's eyes slid from one direction to the next, drinking it all in. High level security locks guarded many of the doors; every few moments the soft whir of a security camera trailing their movements reached his ears, but when he searched for the camera, he found nothing. He was suddenly, unreasonably on edge. His hand strayed to Keith's hip, anchoring the man to his side. Keith glanced at him, brow raised curiously. 

Their escort glanced back at them repeatedly as they were guided to their temporary quarters. They would be treated as visiting royalty, Maurvos had promised, speaking directly to Shiro and refusing to lay eyes on Keith. It was subtle, but it was rebuff enough to grind on Shiro's nerves. 

"I'm having second thoughts about spending the next several days here." Shiro said frankly when the door to their chambers had closed and the fall of steps faded in the hallway.

Keith hummed, acknowledging the man's concerns while taking a circuit about the room. He did not detect anything immediately alarming and a quick poke of his head out the door confirmed that there were no sentries standing guard outside their room. The air was tense, but not hostile. Loathsome as their hosts were, he did not feel endangered. Yet.

"The Bartroans have been looking to ally themselves with the rebellion for years." Keith explained, shutting the door and locking it. "The Galra Empire has strictly cut off their access to higher grade resources which would allow them to maintain their military strength. Clearly, they've worked around those restrictions, but they're still eager to return to the golden days, when they were a galactic force to be reckoned with."

"I hope that isn't to mean that they're hoping to expand their own military might, like the galra have."

It was a valid fear, but thankfully it was not one that Keith thought they needed to worry over. Pressing his palms to the king-sized bed and finding the firmness to his approval, he began peeling his armor off.

"Pidge did some careful studying of the Bartroan history." he said, setting each piece of armor neatly on the chest of gleaming silver at the foot of their bed. "Powerful as the Bartroans are, they've never expanded their reach beyond their planet. The moons are colonized, but that's their own land."

"Still." Shiro's mouth twitched into a grimace. He did not want to play the fool; he would never forgive himself if he liberated a galaxy, only to have it conquered immediately by a villain seated within. 

A myriad of damning thoughts began swimming through his head. Such ends were impossible to avoid, reason said, quiet, humble, and thoughtful. After ten thousand years of enslavement under the Galra Empire's thumb, there was an undercurrent of tension through every land. Some planets had been razed, left with no means to protect themselves, while others, like the Bartroans, had the might to not only protect themselves, but to conquer others. 

Voltron needed to prevent such events from occurring, _he_ needed to stop them, conviction demanded. As a paladin of Voltron, as the leader of the rebellion, it was his duty to ensure that all those trapped beneath the crushing foot of the Galra Empire tasted freedom. So long as one man in the universe was still oppressed, they were all oppressed. There could be no peace until liberation had reached all ends of the universe.

A hand tugged on his belt and Shiro jolted back to himself, watching as Keith unhooked the buckle and tossed it aside. The man's stormy eyes flashed at him playfully before his hands settled on Shiro's breastplate.

"Come to bed."

Shiro swallowed thickly, his worries fading to the back of his mind as desire came rushing in. "You don't feel unsafe here?"

"We've stayed here before." Keith said simply, one hand skimming down his mate's chest and stomach to settle over his groin, palming the man lightly through the thick material of his suit. 

"This is different..." His focus was failing him.

"Idiotic as their ideals are, I don't think they'd be dumb enough to risk the wrath of Voltron and the entire rebellion by trying to assassinate us."

It was still a risk Shiro refused to take. With great reluctance, he forced Keith's hands away, pushing him back a step. Indignation spiked between them and quickly settled. 

"What's gotten into you?" Shiro asked, warily shedding his armor. "You should feel more uncomfortable than I do while we're on this planet. Are you going into heat again?" He had not smelled such a thing on the man's skin, but Shiro could not think of any other reason for Keith's sudden and unreasonable desire to be on him. They did not often indulge in physical pleasures while on diplomatic missions.

A devious little grin twisted Keith's lips. Bless his sweet, honorable mate. Pettiness was not a trait Shiro possessed. Not on his own at least. With a little nudge though...

"I'm not in heat, dear. I doubt an omega has ever stayed in royal chambers in this palace. I plan on taking advantage of the opportunity handed to me."

"...How?"

"By having my alpha fuck me all night and soiling these fine sheets with as much semen as I can possibly produce."

Goodness, Keith had grown vindictive in his years of absence. Shiro was startled to discover that he did not so much mind that trait. There was much that they were both willing to overlook, slights and insults that were not worth defending against. Picking their battles had become a vital skill they had learned. Had a chance present itself to subtly right those wrongs, normally they would have allowed the opportunity to pass. 

Not this time. This was a personal matter.

Snorting in bemusement, he shed the last of his clothing, standing unabashedly naked before his mate. Keith keened in appreciation, immediately moving to the bed and folding himself into a display of submission. He peered at Shiro from beneath the fall of his tangled hair, an impish grin on his lips. His alpha circled, growling predatorily. As the man slid onto bed with him, large hands straying to his hips and pressing into the softness of his flesh with bruising force, Keith purred low in his throat.

"How do you want me?" he rasped, flexing his leg to press against his mate's thigh.

Shiro rumbled in pleasure, raking his hands over the swell of Keith's backside and down his full thighs. He always appreciated when his omega was docile, putting on a show for him. There was nothing more alluring than Keith on his knees, beckoning him with a sultry look and searing hot words that promised an evening of fulfillment. His bionic hand strayed to the juncture between his mate's legs, welcomed by a rush of slick. With a few gentle strokes at the man's entrance, his fingers were easily sheathed within. He stole a moment, marveling at how loose and welcoming Keith's body became at his touch. He stroked his fingers gently against the man's inner walls, grinning to himself as Keith shuddered and moaned. A little more pressure and he was up to the knuckle, curling his digits against the spot that made his mate squirm and whine. 

Keith threw him a needy look over his shoulder, a subtle sheen of sweat on his brow. "Shiro...don't tease."

"Never." he whispered, carefully easing his fingers free and shifting to drape himself over his mate. "Can you take my weight?"

Keith laughed. He could not help it. Shiro was a romantic, prone to displays of affection and uttering the finest grade of sap known to man. His pillowtalk was famously sweet. When the alpha part of his mind took over though, he was less tactful. Keith rolled his eyes, arching upwards so his back pressed tightly against the man's chest.

"You weigh nothing. Rut me, alpha."

"How crass of my little omega."

"You started it." he teased, dropping his pitch to mimic Shiro's tone. "Let me take your weight, alpha."

The slap to his backside was expected and met with another laugh. Keith fought to stifle the fit as Shiro shifted onto his knees, laying the full weight of his body over his back. 'Nothing' was perhaps a generous dismissal of the man's bulk. He could take Shiro's weight and not be crushed, but Keith felt the immenseness of his mate's girth. He knew intimately the thickness of each muscle in the man's body and how powerful each and every one of those muscles was. Gentle as his mate was, Shiro could easily hold him down and force him to take his weight.

His Shiro was never forceful though. Ever the gentle alpha, Shiro slid his length between Keith's thighs in a smooth glide, pausing a moment to rut against the man's aching member. Keith's slick dripped between them liberally, easing any friction until they slipped against one another and Shiro was certain that his mate was ready to take him. 

"Do you suppose they're watching?" he panted into Keith's ear, using his thumbs to vent the man's dripping hole. 

Keith laughed again, lowering his upper body so that his hips were raised in supplication. "Probably."

The alpha growled, rising up on his haunches and nudging the head of his impressive cock against his mate's entrance. With a small bit of working, the head slipped in, grasped greedily by his omega's slick passage. Slick or not, care would need to be taken. He was no small alpha, even without considering his knot. Keith could take him, but patience would see that the man was not injured out of carelessness. Inch by aching inch he slid deeper, pausing each time Keith shuddered or let out a high pitched gasp. 

What felt like ten minutes later, he was fully seated, thighs pressed to his mate's hips. He released a shuddering breath, lost in awe at how wet and hot Keith's body was. His most sensitive organ was compressed in soothing heat, convulsing around him as his mate adjusted to the size and feel of him. 

_Mine._ The possessive thought rang clearly in his head. His mate. His omega. His to rut and his to claim. All his. 

Keith flinched when Shiro pulled back to roar. The hairs on the back of his arms stood on end and he instinctively dropped onto his elbows in submission to his alpha. Whatever primal urge had come over the man, his act of submission only stoked the heat of the fire in Shiro's belly. Leaning over him once more, Shiro wrapped an arm tightly around his waist and pulled his hips back only to slam forward. A yelp fell from Keith's lips as he was rocked forward. Again and again his alpha rut, lost to a mindless, quick rhythm that would soon have them spent.

"Do you think they're enjoying the show?" Shiro growled against the back of his neck, nipping the sensitive flesh.

Keith shuddered, fighting to find words. "Pr-probably. They like seeing alphas put their bitches in place."

The words, flippant as they were, sparked something within Shiro. He paused suddenly, releasing his grip on Keith's waist and pulling free. His mate turned to him, alarmed at the abrupt pause.

"You're right." Shiro said solemnly, a scowl on his face. "They would enjoy that."

Keith keened questioningly. He felt foolish, still braced on his knees, ass in the air. Before he could right himself and ask after the man's troubles, Shiro flopped onto his back into the pillows and pulled his mate after him. 

"Shiro, what the--"

The man nuzzled into his scent gland with a purr. "Ride my cock, my little omega."

"What?"

"You said it yourself: they enjoy putting their omegas in place. I doubt they've ever seen an omega taking charge of the situation."

For a long moment, Keith was stunned. His mate not only seemed to be enjoying the idea that they were being watched, but that they would defy their hosts with one of their preferred positions. There were days Shiro just wanted to lay back and let his omega do the work, bouncing on his cock, rocking and grinding his hips as he saw fit. 

A pleased growl rumbled in Keith's throat and he crawled forward, leaning into the man's space. "Well, if my alpha insists..."

It had been some time since they had last taken this position. With a bit of embarrassing fumbling, Keith managed to shift, bracing his arms on the man's thighs, hips poised above Shiro's erect cock. His balance was off and he needed assistance; Shiro grasped his hips, holding him steady as he eased down, taking a shaky breath as the head of the man's cock breached his entrance. 

Slick as he was, Keith knew he could allow his body to take over and sink down on his mate's cock. He had had Shiro inside of him only a minute before; he knew he was ready. Mentally though, he needed to take his time. 

"That's it, baby." Shiro soothed, "Take it nice and slow."

He keened in response, face inexplicably flushed. With a ragged breath, he sank the rest of the way until he sat on his mate's hips, the man's massive cock stretching him with a subtle yet delicious burn. Shiro's hands worked soothing circles into his hips, soft words of encouragement falling from his lips. 

He allowed Keith a moment to gather his breath. "Can you move now, baby?"

Keith grunted, raising himself slightly and forcing his hips back down. Shiro shuddered, growling encouragingly. It was slow, probably much slower than the alpha would have preferred, but it took Keith several minutes to gain his bearings. He had not ridden his alpha in years. He had forgotten the feel of the man's cock from that angle, pushing and pulling him at the same time. He had missed the sensation of being properly filled, of being owned by his alpha. He might be the one leading the rut, but it was Shiro who commanded him. He wanted nothing more than to be owned.

Lifting a hand, he squeezed his swollen chest, pulling at his pert nipple until a tiny rivulet dripped down his hand. "I still have my milk, my alpha."

Shiro's eyes lit up in interest. Lunging forward, he wrapped his lips around the plump nipple, purring happily as a splash of sweet milk flowed onto his tongue. 

"Oh, god--" Keith's voice cracked, mind crumbling as his body curled in maddening bliss. He threw his head back, panting loudly as he worked his hips faster, desperately seeking his end. 

Shiro suckled insistently, hips jerking upwards sporadically, losing the smooth rhythm they had built together. He pulled Keith's chest as close to his mouth as possible, whimpering as the man's fingers tugged at the hair of his fringe. 

"Oh--oh, fuck! Shiro!"

He was close. Too close. With Shiro's mouth pulling at his nipple, drinking his milk like a starved pup, he could not hold back. Every nerve in his body was lit, tingling as the sensations grew stronger until they engulfed him. Before he lost his mind entirely, he arched his hips, reaching between them to grasp his mate's cock. With a cry of pleasure, he jerked his hips downward, guiding Shiro's knot inside. 

The culminating sensations were too much. Crying out, he clasped his arms around the man's neck and bit into his mating mark.

"Fuck...Shiro...alpha!"

Shiro continued to rut into him, growling around the nipple he had latched to. He could stay there all evening, all his life, buried with in his mate, taking his sweet milk. Keith welcomed his attentions and he knew the man would never complain. 

They tensed together as Shiro came, his knot swelling and locking them together. Keith grit his teeth against the burn; without the aid of his heat to ease the way, it was more painful than pleasurable, but he craved it all the same. Keith hummed into his ear, rocking his hips gently as he reeled from his orgasm, milking his mate of each drop of seed he could. It always humbled him, how long his mate could spill inside of him; minutes bled together, his alpha shooting salvo after salvo inside of him. When Shiro let out a tired sigh, he knew it was over. Ever so carefully, he eased onto Shiro's stomach, burrowing into the man's chest. It would be some time before they would be free and he saw no reason why he should not enjoy the moment and steal a short rest in his alpha's embrace.

Shiro's arms circled him, holding him securely as his eyes drifted shut on a sigh of pure contentment. They dozed and he came away to the man pulling free of his body, growling happily before nipping at his shoulder playfully. 

"Round two?" he teased.

Shiro snorted, taking the time to lay kisses to every part of his mate's neck. Such a good omega deserved a reward. His tongue slid over the delicate column of Keith's neck, lips pressing against his clavicle, sucked a dark mark into his shoulder. 

All at once the attention stopped. The air changed, the sour scent of anger rising. Keith lifted his head, concerned.

"Shiro?" 

He craned his neck as best he could, trying to follow the man's line of sight. Shiro was staring at his skin, his pleasant mood thoroughly vanished. Keith did not need to feel after the spot that his mate had fixated on. He knew what his mate was staring at: Lotor's mark. 

The sight of the scar drew an unhappy growl from Shiro's throat. "You need to get rid of that mark." he said firmly, fingers digging into the fleshy part of his mate's hips.

Keith did not respond immediately, caught off guard by the gruff tone. With great strength of will, he refrained from touching the mating mark. "You know I can't."

"I can cover over it."

"You can--but not until we find Lotor and execute this plan of yours. Without it, we don't have a solid method of finding him."

That seemed a poor excuse to keep the blemish, in Shiro's mind. It was not just a scar, a mark that Lotor had left, it was a declaration. Keith did not belong to Voltron, he belonged to the prince. For all intents and purposes, Keith _was_ Lotor's mate. He had the mark and the thrall over Keith to prove it. Shiro hated it.

"Keith, get rid of it."

"Don't command me." the man snapped, pulling away.

Shiro refused to let him go. He had chosen not to confront his mate over the dangers of the mark, given the mental and emotional beating the man had taken recently, but he could no longer remain silent. It was worse than playing with fire--it was playing with lives. Growling a warning, he pulled Keith back into his arms. The man snarled back, tense and unhappy. 

"Keith, you deliberately hid the strength this mark has over you."

"I did not!"

"Never once did you tell me--or the others--that you could sense Lotor through the mark. You were using it to track him; all of those galra bases you found, you found because of that mark."

Keith bit back a mocking 'duh'. This was not news to him; he failed to see how it could be to Shiro. "You know how mating marks work. If you weren't clever enough to figure out how I was finding those bases, that's on you, not me."

Shiro felt his face contort into a snarl. There was a valid point lurking in Keith's acidic words. He was in no mood to take the barb quietly.

"You sent us into a base where you knew that Lotor could be lurking. No warning. Did you even think what would happen, should we have found Lotor? Because we _did_ find him and the end result could have been far worse than it was. You could have gotten our team killed."

Any rebuttal Keith had died on his tongue. He dropped his gaze guiltily. He had to accept responsibility, he knew. Shiro was right. He had not warned anyone. Though he had guessed that Shiro had some notion as to what he was about, tracking the bases, he had owed them a fair warning. He knew better than most that Lotor was not to be trifled with. The subsequent attack that had befallen Shiro and his own mental break because of it was his burden alone to bear. 

"You're right. Of course you are...I'm so sorry..."

A swelling of sympathy sprang into Shiro's chest, watching as his mate's expression changed from indignant, to guilty, to morose. His admonishment had hit home. Strangely, he found that he regretted his harsh words. His mate had endured enough torment and suffering. He wanted to keep Keith locked away some place safe, some place the man could relax and be free of the ghosts of his past, a place where Keith never had to hide his intentions and he did not have to scold his mate. There had to be someplace like that. Someplace out in the universe, beyond the war. 

"That mark is dangerous, Keith." Shiro said gently, running his hands over the man's back. "I don't want it on you any more."

It was not as if Keith wanted it there either. He would have sold any part of himself to be rid of the mark, to be rid of the tendril of power that kept him bound to the prince. Every day he choked on the fact that he could sense Lotor, knowing that the prince could sense him in return. He looked forward to the day Shiro laid proper claim to him once more. Necessity, however, demanded that they delay. 

"When we find him." he said solemnly, reaching for the blanket and pulling it up to his chin. "When we find him this last time, you can mark over it. Until then, we need it."

Shiro's frown was telling as to how he felt about that declaration, but he remained silent, his hands gentle. 

=============

For all the dangers that Maurvos and his kingdom posed, Keith slept heavily, as if he had not seen the sanctuary of a bed in days. Shiro knew that not to be the case, as they had been making good use of their temporary quarters on the Olkari home base. There might have been something to Keith's logic, that it would do Maurvos no good to attack them. Even so, Shiro remained alert. Each footfall in the hallway, each echo of voices set his nerves on edge.

He curled tightly around Keith, nestling his chin into the crook of the man's shoulder. A subtle waft of heat tickled his nose a moment before disappearing. He turned hsi nose into the waves of Keith's long hair and inhaled deeply, chasing after the scent, but it was thoroughly lost. Soon enough, Shiro soothed his anxious alpha side, his mate would go into heat. Another week or so, Keith had surmised with a tired expression. His body had yet to fully regulate itself, although Knair and Ryvaina repeatedly reassured them both that it was to be expected. 

His poor omega, Shiro thought, nuzzling the stubble of his beard into Keith's scent gland. He only wished he could ease some of the man's distress. Saddled as Keith was with his duties to the war, the inconvenience of his body was unappreciated by all. There was no time for power naps to regain energy or free time for relaxation. This mission was as close to a reprieve as they were likely to get; every other waking moment was spent plotting, coordinating, and training. Even Shiro felt the alluring call of fatigue attempting to drag him away from his many tasks. 

Mental exhaustion made it all the more difficult to remain alert through the night, but he managed. Each time his eyes would fall shut, Keith would shift in his arms, burrowing deeper into his embrace, and he was reminded of why he needed to stand vigil. This was not a safe place for his mate. Tolerated as they seemed to be, Shiro would not put it past Maurvos or his men to try and make a spectacle out of Keith. He tucked his mate more securely in his arms, scenting him repeatedly through the night. 

A vague memory of a similar night at the Galaxy Garrison tickled the back of his mind. A flashbulb went off in his memory and he was transported to the week before the Kerberos launch, tangled in sweat dampened sheets with Keith's limp body in his arms. He had gotten up sometime in the early morning to open a window and air the room out, skin prickling as a rush of cold air ran over his bare body. A soft whine came from the bed and he quickly returned to his sloppily made nest and curled around Keith, pressing kiss after reassuring kiss to the boy's neck and face. His mating mark stood stark on Keith's neck, red and swollen, fresh and new, beautiful. He could not help but fawn over the mark he had left, kissing and licking despite Keith's sleepy protests.

_My mate _, his younger self had thought in wonder. Keith was his; all his. His mate. His to love, his to protect. It had been too much for his young brain to comprehend, though he valiantly swore to himself that he would do all in his power to nurture and shelter Keith from the harshness of the world.__

__He had tried, Shiro thought dismally, squeezing Keith's shoulder hard enough for the man to growl in his sleep. Had they not been thrown out into the universe and forced to mature before their time, maybe he could have kept Keith safe. Maybe they could have had the idealistic life they had dreamed up, white picket fence, kittens, and all. With a glum little sigh, he rested his forehead against Keith's cheek, silently apologizing for all of the things he had not given his mate._ _

__Sometime after dawn, when the warm rays of a red sun began spreading across the floor, Keith roused. Carefully extracting himself from Shiro's embrace, he stretched, grimacing as his back popped and cracked in protest of his long sleep. For once, he felt well rested. Whether it was the tiring session of lovemaking or simply having the luxury of sleeping longer than usual, Keith did not know or care. His head was buzzing in happiness, mood greatly improved since their rough reception._ _

__"Sleep." he commanded, turning and patting Shiro's long tuft of hair. He needed to trim that for the man. "You need to be in a somewhat decent shape for these talks today."_ _

__Shiro looked at him warily a moment before closing his eyes. Keith was, as usual, correct. He would be of no use, yawning and slurring his words during their meeting. Surely, that would be taken as an insult._ _

__Keith watched as the man nestled into the pillows, falling almost immediately into slumber. He felt a twinge of guilt, having slept so thoroughly while his mate whiled the night away in worry. He could not feel too sorry for it though; try as he had to break Shiro of the habit, the truth of the matter was that Shiro was a worrisome, protective alpha. The lack of overconfidence was refreshing, but often left the man distressed, wanting for comfort or reassurance of his own._ _

__Checking to make sure that his mate was indeed asleep, Keith slipped to the bathroom. He had free time to while away; why not see what else he could taint with his omega touch? A pool of standing hot water greeted him with a cloud of steam and he eagerly slipped into it, hissing in pleasure as the heat sank into tense muscles immediately. That devious little part of him peeked forth, reminding him to enjoy himself as much as possible, as it would bring the lord of the castle great displeasure to know that an omega had soiled his fine bathing rooms._ _

__He hadn't been so petty since Lance had interrupted his and Shiro's grand anniversary night some ten years ago. Pettiness was not a fetching trait for an omega--for anyone really--but Keith found that he took delight in a little bit of revenge. He sighed and moaned appreciatively as the lavender colored water lapped up to his shoulders. At the far end of the pool, a graceful fountain of water sluiced down the side of the tiled wall. It truly was a bathing room fit for a king._ _

__While he waited for the sun to rise fully and Shiro to rouse, Keith took the time to properly brush and braid his hair. Pulled back as it was, his mating marks were highly visible. His lips twitched unhappily, fingers straying over the ridge of scarring from Lotor's mark. Ugly. Nothing like Shiro's. And a great source of contention between him and his mate now. He moved his hand, fingertips grazing the smooth line of Shiro's mark._ _

___Home._ _ _

__The word leaped to his mind and he frowned at his reflection, puzzled by the thought. Latent omega instincts, he decided after a minute of pondering. Any mark Shiro left on him was welcome. It was sign of their strong, unbreakable bond, of the strength of their love and commitment to one another. No matter where they were in the universe, if Shiro was there, he was home._ _

__Sap. Shaking his head, he flipped the braided tail of hair over his shoulder and pulled on his bodysuit. He felt confident with the marks covered. He would not have minded showing off Shiro's mark, letting Maurvos know that he proudly belonged to the alpha. But to show Shiro's mark, he had to show Lotor's as well. That, he would not do. Lotor did not deserve that honor._ _

__Crawling back into bed, he laid his head on Shiro's pillow, watching the man's face as he slept. Almost, he reached out to trace the line of the man's nose scar, but the man needed rest. He had taken his turn to rest. It was his turn to watch now._ _

__==========_ _

__Lord Maurvos' eyes never left Keith's face as the man eased into the seat beside Shiro at the head of the table, commanding equal respect as the leader of Voltron. Shiro took his mate's hand and held it firmly before the eyes of the lord and his counselors. The game of politics had begun and Shiro was determined to come out the winner. Maurvos' eyes narrowed at the display--or Shiro thought they did; it was difficult to read expression in the pitch black depths._ _

__"I hope your rooms were to your liking." the lord said tightly._ _

__Shiro nodded solemnly, stroking his thumb across the flat of Keith's hand. "They were; thank you for hospitality."_ _

__A moment of silent unease passed over the room. For a moment, Keith considered excusing himself. Much as he liked to tease and mock the lord, he knew how important this mission was. The entire rebellion could hinge on the Bartoans becoming their allies. If a bit of humbleness on his part ensured that end, he could grin and bear it. Alas, Shiro's hold was not loosening. He opted then to sit silently, looking as docile and humble as he could. Shiro's eyes strayed to him once or twice, curious over the behavior, but otherwise gave no indication of his noticing._ _

__It was difficult at times to bite his tongue, especially when Shiro floundered during moments of intense interrogation as to the rebellion's ends and how cooperation would aid Bartarol. Only when his mate's eyes went blank, face slack, did Keith intervene._ _

__"Aiding the rebellion in defeating the galra would open up the trade routes once more, as in the elder days of your home planet. Those planets which were previously off limits to you would be available for trade once more." Maurvos stared coldly at him. "Moreover, with the planets freed, their resources would be available for production. That will undoubtedly aid in your economic expansion. Our economist has told us that Bartarol has been suffering a depression for the past several hundred of years."_ _

__The reminder did not sit well with the lord, but he remained silent, tilting his head in interest when his adviser leaned over his shoulder to whisper discreetly._ _

__Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith's hand. "Thank you, sweetheart."_ _

__Keith keened, accepting the affection openly._ _

__"You make a valid argument for our benefits," Maurvos spoke suddenly, leaning forward intensely, "but you ask a great deal from my kingdom. Over half of our military is to join in this fray of yours, if my understanding is correct. All of my ships, my men, my weapons are to be at your disposal. What if you are not successful? I would leave my people open to retaliation."_ _

__"Even should we not win," Shiro began carefully, "we will cause enough damage to Prince Lotor and his empire that he will not be able to easily retaliate against anyone. Your planet would be under the protection of Voltron and the coalition."_ _

__"But you cannot guarantee your success or that your attack will in fact cripple the Galra Empire as you claim it will."_ _

__No one could guarantee anything in war. Maurvos knew that. Shiro knew that the lord knew that. The lord was trying to force his hand, trying to make him concede that nothing could be promised and therefore it was nothing but a gamble. Maurvos, Shiro could tell, did not gamble._ _

__He grit his teeth, hating himself for what he was about to do. Turning to Keith, he forced as neutral an expression as he could manage. His mate gazed back at him curiously. "Sweetheart, will you give Lord Maurvos and I some time alone? I wish to discuss some specifics with him."_ _

__Surprise colored Keith's face a moment before a pleased expression eased the lines of his face. Shiro was confused a moment, unable to squash the nagging sensation that he had snubbed his mate with his request. His alpha side was huffing in indignation._ _

__"Of course." Keith said softly, rising. "I will return to our rooms." He offered a cursory display of respect towards the lord before leaning over and boldly kissing Shiro on the lips. Very out of place in such a dire meeting, but it was a display that he felt needed to be made. Shiro made no protest, blinking once in surprise before laying his hand to the back of his mate's neck and kissing him firmly._ _

__As Keith departed, Shiro swore that there was a subtle sashay to the man's gait, a teasing little walk meant just for his eyes. It was difficult to focus for a moment, but the heavy sound of the door closing after the man helped center him._ _

__"We do not typically allow omegas in such meetings." Maurvos stated, breaking the silence. His fingers were steepled together, mouth pressed thin. "It is not our way."_ _

__Was that what the hesitation was about? The lord took issue to Keith's mere presence? Shiro would not have been surprised. "I respect that, my lord. On earth, where Keith and I hail from, alphas and omegas form a singular unit together. They are inseparable. An alpha would never make high consequence decisions without the input of their mate."_ _

__A vast overstatement, but Maurvos would never know that._ _

__The lord and his counselors peered at him a moment, mulling over those interesting facts. Omegas were all but slaves in this land; to hear that they held positions of worth in another culture was likely shocking. Primitive humans, Shiro could imagine them thinking. How strange it was, when he paused to consider that almost universally the omegas were considered the lesser of the classes. He had never understood that line of thought himself; omegas were the most fertile of them all, the breeders of their kind. That was a position that demanded respect._ _

__The matter seemed to be beyond contemplation; Keith was no longer a topic of interest to the lord._ _

__"What makes you think you can even find the Prince, Head of Voltron? That is an instrumental fact to your proposed attack."_ _

__"We have means of tracking him."_ _

__"I find that difficult to believe; how have you accomplished such a thing?"_ _

__"Keith." Shiro said plainly, as if it were the simplest concept in the universe._ _

__Maurvos peered at him suspiciously, black eyes narrowing. "Your mate?"_ _

__Shiro nodded once. "Keith, being part galra himself, has the ability to track Lotor and his men. Our last several missions tracking Lotor and his army have been successful. We have kept close tabs on the prince's whereabouts."_ _

__The counselors turned to one another, erupting into a flurry of sibilant whispers the likes of which Shiro could not quite make out. Whatever they were saying, his words had clearly effected them. He knew it seemed unlikely, like wishful thinking, to be able to predict the prince's movements--but they could. Hated as Lotor's mark was, it was proving to be a boon to their movement._ _

__He awaited the day he was able to rub the fact in the prince's smug face. Lotor may have crippled his mate, caused Keith to loath and doubt himself, but Shiro clung to the fact that the prince had not won. Lotor had not triumphed over them. They were together, the black paladins, alpha and omega. Perfectly flawed together. All Lotor's horrid abuse did was make it easier for them to track and exact revenge upon him._ _

__A sharp clearing of the throat drew his attention and Shiro banished the unpleasant thoughts. He could dwell on bloody murder later. Maurvos had opened a screen between them, laying out the full might of his military. Even in miniature form, it was impressive in its scope. Keith had been right; their aid was a much needed for the coalition._ _

__The lord's face, when Shiro looked at him, was tense. He was presenting a hitherto unheard of opportunity to the people of Bartarol. It was a risky gamble, but the rewards were too tantalizing for even Maurvos to ignore. Freedom, after all, was the greatest gift worth fighting for._ _

__"Tell me exactly what your battle plan is and the numbers you are requesting."_ _

__===========_ _

__It was hours later when their meeting adjourned, Maurvos' counselors quickly dispersing to pass on the news to the needed parties of the kingdom. Word would spread within the castle in a matter of minutes, Shiro thought, walking briskly to their guest chambers. News of war never stayed secret for long, no matter the planet._ _

__It did not matter, he told himself. Gossip was the least of his concerns. They would stay another several days, solidifying the alliance they had proposed. It would be a tedious few days and he imagined Keith would be in a sour mood when they finally departed. He could not blame the man. Had he been forced to quietly resign himself to a planet that loathed him, he would have been temperamental as well._ _

__Amends needed to be made, Shiro told himself, throwing the chamber door open and quickly closing it behind him. Immediately Keith rose from the bed, anxious for news._ _

__"Baby," he rushed in, arms open, apologies spilling from his lips, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean--"_ _

__Keith ran to his arms, cutting his words off with a hand to his mouth. "What happened? Have you gained their support?"_ _

__"Keith, aren't you--?"_ _

__The man shook his head, anticipating Shiro's question. "This isn't about me, Shiro. It's about the mission. Everything that we hope for, that the universe is hoping for, might hinge on this alliance. So...were you successful?"_ _

__What a drastic turn from where they had been during their last visit. Indignation at several of the Lord's comments still sat heavily on Shiro's chest, but it mattered little. Not to Keith at least. There were more important matters than their pride. For the first time in ages, it felt as if they were making strides forward. They were breaking down the barriers that Lotor had built. Success was within their grasp. Trivial insults were worth nothing._ _

__Shiro beamed in pride, taking his mate's face in hand. "I did it; I gained their support. I did it for you, baby."_ _

__The mission mattered, but for Shiro nothing mattered more than his mate. He would win this battle for Keith._ _


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings draw to a close, somethings are just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel the tension?! The end is near!
> 
> Lol anyway, I decided that I'm going to use my ko-fi page as a writing twitter of sorts. I'll be using it to let you know about updates and what projects I'm working on, so be sure to check out my ko-fi!

He had taken to staring at his mate the last several days and Shiro could not place the odd habit. Months ago he had stared at his love from across an expanse of room that felt like an ocean, gazing longingly at him during meetings while the man purposely avoided his presence. Just the sight of Keith had made him melt in joy and ache in misery. All he had were his fleeting sightings of his mate. 

Now though, he had Keith in his arms nightly. That very moment, he had one arm wrapped around the man's waist, the other stroking slowly through the long tresses of his hair. There was no shortage of moments together. And yet still he could not help but stare. His eyes lingered on Keith's pale skin, memorizing the scars and wrinkles of distress that had formed in the years of his absence. Keith had the most peaceful expression when he rested, the weight of the universe momentarily lifted from his shoulders. Shiro could only hope that his dreams were calm and happy.

He lifted his finger to smooth away a furrow on the man's sleeping brow. 

"What is it?" he whispered, pressing a kiss to the spot a moment later.

Keith wrinkled his nose in his sleep, murmuring softly before settling. 

_My perfect mate_ , Shiro thought, pulling the man closer. All his. How had he gotten so lucky? The rising star of the Galaxy Garrison, reputed to loath alphas as much as he loathed his fellow omegas, who cared for nothing but his own making, had turned violet eyes to him and not pushed him away. They were a perfect match. They always had been.

For another hour they stayed tangled together, until slumber fell away and Keith blinked his bleary eyes. As was the man's wont, Keith held still a moment, eyes flickering about the room, taking in his surroundings, acclimating himself to his whereabouts. 

"Morning, baby." Shiro murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Keith grunted, slipping free of his massive arms and stretching with a yawn. 

"Are you ready to go home?"

"I've been ready since we got here." Tolerated though his presence was, even Keith, with his ability to overlook almost any insult made to him, had found life in the castle to be tedious. "When can we leave?"

Shiro smiled warmly, patting him reassuringly. "Soon. I have to take my injection today and let that settle. After breakfast we should be able to leave." He paused, considering something a moment. "What about you? I heard you get up early this morning. You were in the bathroom for awhile."

Honestly, Keith was surprised the man had noticed. He had been positive that Shiro was fast asleep. That was exactly why he had chosen to get up at that moment. It felt wrong, slinking from bed in the dimness of the rising sun, as if he were sneaking to conceal a secret. 

"I'm fine. I just took my medicine. I always take it early."

To avoid sickness, Shiro thought. When the man couldn't avoid the call of his stomach, he hid it. If there was one thing he knew Keith hated, it was appearing weak. 

"Your stomach is still bothering you?"

Keith sighed, clearly not wishing to delve into the matter. "Only sometimes now. If I take my medicine early, I don't get sick as often when I eat and move around. Knair keeps messing with the dosage."

"She's not inspiring much confidence in me."

"Be fair." Keith pleaded. 

He owed much to his doctors. When he had quietly resigned himself to madness or death via airlock, they had come to his aid. The pains he had, the secrets he kept shuttered away in his own dark heart, they saw right to the core of him and worked tirelessly to heal him. They knew things even Shiro did not know. How could he tell Shiro that there were still days he longed to stay in bed and never wake, when he knew Shiro suffered the same crushing darkness? He could not share that his mate; he had decided that early on. It would be too selfish of him. If ever he became a danger to himself, Keith swore that he would alert his mate, but thankfully those thoughts had not crossed his mind in ages. 

"They're doing the best they can." 

Shiro squinted at him suspiciously. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Yes, actually;" Keith said blandly, "you left a black mark on my back last week and Knair remarked that if you couldn't keep your strength in check she was going to suggest altering _your_ dosage."

_Ugh._ Shiro grimaced. Unlike his unfortunate mate, he had taken quite well to his medication. The serum compound had only been altered once or twice after particularly worrisome outbursts from the alpha. The change of the medicine's makeup tended to make me sick as well; he wished to avoid another round of that hell.

"I'll stop leaving marks."

"Good."

Although, Keith knew he would miss the dark bruises lining his hips and thighs. His neck and shoulders would forever be lined with purpling marks, but Knair anticipated and accepted such a thing. Even the bite mark on the inside of his thigh, where Shiro had bitten in an overzealous fit, was acceptable. His scent glands were meant to be marked, Knair had said in her sharp, cold tone as she slathered salve on the palm sized bruise on his back. His back, however, ought to be treated with care. 

"Regardless of your fierceness, you are still an omega." she pointed out the blatant truth. "Your alpha must take care with you. You're strength is incomparable to his."

It was not a jab at his strength or weakness, Keith came to accept; although he had seethed over the remark for several hours. Shiro was an alpha; a strong alpha made of solid bulk, all lean muscles and powerful pheromones. The technology of his arm only made him stronger. Had the man wanted to, Keith knew that Shiro could break him with a single, slight movement of his bionic limb. 

His eyes flicked to Shiro, moving about the room in graceful ease. A god among men. The gentlest alpha there ever was; Keith had been astounded when first they met and he realized that not all alphas were domineering creatures, looking to put him in his place. Every touch Shiro laid on him was soft, a whisper of breath across his skin, as if the man were afraid to touch him. He supposed that was the reason why, when Shiro finally screwed up the courage to ask him to bed all those years ago, he had all but demanded the alpha force him into submission. It was not something Keith knew he craved until Shiro came into his life. 

Smiling to himself, he crawled to the end of the bed and grabbed his paladin bodysuit. The sooner they got dressed and out of that room, the sooner they could leave. That was all the motivation he needed to pull his armor into place. Even the soft blankets of a royal Bartroan chamber could not keep him on that planet any longer than he needed to be.

=====

Ever the practical one, Allura immediately called an emergency meeting of the paladins, pulling their recently returned teammates from their lions before they could even set foot on solid ground. Her anxiousness was expected, but the trip had been long. Despite dozing off on the return journey, Keith was ready for a proper rest in their own bed, the familiar scent of home and mate surrounding him. 

The weakness alarmed him. He had not realized how frail he had become until discovering that the mere act of traveling fatigued him. It was mental exhaustion coupled with his own physical decline, Keith surmised. It was humiliating all the same. His frailty made Shiro dote. As if the man did not have enough on his plate to worry about without constant concerns of a mate falling ill at inopportune times. 

"A few minutes." Shiro tried to reassure him as they walked slowly towards the conference room. 

That was boldface lie and they both knew it. The princess would pump them for as much information as they could give, until they had pillaged the depths of their memories for the vaguest detail. Their daily reports had been of great help, she assured them with a smile, but the coalition needed to know more. 

"Such as?" Keith asked, stifling a yawn. 

"How did they treat you?" Pidge cut in, staring him down with a worried expression.

Bless her protective alpha heart. The several times they had met with Lord Maurvos before Shiro's return, Pidge had stood by his side, ever the faithful companion. She had refused to allow the lord and his men to belittle Keith, snapping defensively that he was the Head of Voltron and deserving of great respect. Her flares of anger had never done much for them, but Keith appreciated her protectiveness all the same.

He smiled tiredly at her. "It was fine. Shiro was there to keep them in line."

Pidge frowned, not entirely believing him. "An alpha's presence never stopped them before."

"My mate wasn't there before."

"He was once." Hunk pointed out and they were all momentarily lost to the unpleasant memory. 

Shiro fought back a growl as he was drawn back into the memory of his weakness. How could he have sat there and allowed his mate to be attacked? He had been ill, reeling from Keith's intense desire to be away from him, but the alpha had been abundantly present. He recalled the dark fantasies the feral beast planted in his brain, watered by Maurvos' insults until it burst, fully bloomed, and called for blood. He should have listened to the beast's call for revenge. He had set a precedent that day: insult the Voltron omega all you wanted, even in front of his mate; the alpha would not stand up for his mate. 

"This time was different." Shiro said tightly, reaching over to take Keith's hand. "Maurvos was rough at first, and he certainly didn't change his opinions on omegas and the hierarchy, but after I set him straight about our own culture's views of omegas he was more...tolerable."

All eyes turned to Keith, seeking confirmation. It seemed an impossible notion. Keith nodded though, laying his cheek into his palm while he squeezed Shiro's fingers with his other. 

"It's true. Everything went fine. Shiro did a fine job maneuvering our alliance."

A collective breath was released. Tension bled from the air. Immediately, Keith and Shiro knew that the rest of the team had expected their mission to be unsuccessful. Or that, even had their meeting resulted in an alliance, it would have come at the price of Keith's dignity. They shared a knowing look, mouths splitting into grins. 

"Let's get this over with." Keith said amiably. "I need a nap."

Across the table, he could practically hear Lance's roll of his eyes. "Dude, all you do is sleep now!"

"It's called depression and recovering from mental and physical breakdowns. Deal with it, toolbox."

Lance scoffed, but made no further comment. He would not admit it aloud, not in the presence of the others, but he was still worried for Keith. Shiro was clearly no longer a threat to the man's safety and sanity, but something still felt off. He knew what it was too, he just could not accept it. Valid though his friend's tiredness was, he had noticed Keith shying away from participation in the coalition. Even the Blade seemed hard pressed to find him at times. He thought back to the times that Keith had said he was a broken soldier and no longer fit to pilot.

Keith was planning on leaving the team. Lance was positive of it. Perhaps not leave in a permanent sense; Keith would never abandon Shiro's side, especially not after all they had been through. Introspection was not always his strong suit, but Lance had spent enough months observing his friend to realize that Keith was, sadly, irrevocably damaged. His grandfather had been the same way; broken of spirit and mind. But his grandfather had not had Keith's tenacity, he was not like Keith who stubbornly clung to life and refused to admit that he had been wholly defeated. His grandfather had given in, Lance remembered. The once great man withered before the family's eyes, mind growing farther and farther away each day, body decaying while the man still lived. Grandfather had been dying right before their eyes; the end was inevitable. A shiver ran up Lance's spine, knowing that, had matters progressed somewhat differently, Keith could have withered away as well. One hard mental shake was all it took to uproot a person's will.

Stepping down was likely the best option for Keith. None of them wanted to test the limits of Keith's mind and see just how much more trauma he could take. A slow, painful recovery was better than a slow, aching death. Still, it was sad to know that one of their essential teammates, one of the original paladins, was handing away his title. Keith was paladin no more. 

Maybe that was alright though, Lance thought, chasing away his frown. As their meeting ended, Allura having pried as much information as she could from the two men, he remained seated, studying their teammates. As Keith rose from his chair, Shiro took his hand and kissed his forehead sweetly. With an arm around Keith's waist, the man led them from the room with promises of a long nap in a warm, plush nest. The idea was met with a happy keen from Keith. 

Lance broke into a smile suddenly. He had never pegged Keith as homebody, but after those three years of hell without Shiro, he understood the change of heart. Keith was happy. Shiro was happy. Soon, he wagered, Shiro would be retiring his paladin armor was well. They would live out the rest of their days in marital bliss, removed from the troubles of war and dangers of battle. Honestly, he could not think of two people more deserving of such peace. 

"What a pair." he remarked happily to Hunk as they exited the room.

The man glanced down the opposite end of the hallway, where Keith and Shiro were just rounding a corner, all smiles and light laughter. Hunk smiled as well.

"It's good to see them both at peace. Finally."

"Yeah. Finally."

There was no need, Lance decided, to share his thoughts with the others. That Shiro and Keith would retire was inevitable. He did not need to remind them all of that fact. It would not happen until after they won the war, so it did not truly matter. The great adventure would be over soon though, he felt confident. With Lotor soundly defeated, the universe would no longer have a need for Voltron. He hoped.

=====

"Did you see the way Lance was staring at you?" Shiro asked, tossing the last piece of his armor into the corner of the room. "What was that all about?"

From the bed, Keith snorted, already disrobed and awaiting his mate. "He probably got some stupid idea stuck in his head again. I'll ask him about it later."

"Maybe he thought we were lying about Maurvos being tolerable."

"I'll find out. Come to bed; you smell like you're going into a rut again. I like it."

That put Shiro's mind at ease. He had felt his rut coming on the previous day, so powerful and consuming that it stretched his nerves taut. He needed to maintain focus. Remain poised, he commanded himself, adjusting his aching cock many times in private. It was humiliating, like being a teenager all over again. Once or twice he thought he had caught Maurvos leering at him knowingly. It was no secret, he was certain, what he and Keith did behind closed doors. Every day, Keith's neck was blacked with a new mark. No one would have missed the signs of his possession. Keith wore the claiming marks proudly, teasingly canting his head to the side now and again to show them off. 

Welcomed as his attentions were at the castle, Shiro did not think Keith would have enjoyed being roused while they were traveling. All during the return journey, he had felt an irresistible urge to nudge Keith away and suggest they while some of their time away in a more spirited manner. Somehow, he _had_ resisted. His sense of guilt was sometimes a good thing. Keith needed to rest, he reminded himself sternly. Rutting could wait until they were home again.

And home again they now were. There was no hope of lovemaking right then, he could tell by the way Keith's eyelids dropped and his body sagged. Later perhaps. With a happy hum, he crawled into bed with the man, drawing his mate close. Keith curled into his arms, laying his head to his mate's chest with a soft sigh. Not five minutes later, the man was asleep.

Shiro smiled at the sight of his slumbering mate. Every moment like this seemed like a gift. It could have so easily been taken from him and he would have never known his mate's love and warmth again.

"Good night, baby."

=====

A pervasive sense of foreboding had begun building on Olkari. The end was nigh. One way or another, their parts in the war would come with the impending attack. Either Voltron would lead them all to victory, or they would all taste the fire of a Galra counterattack. Intelligence reports were flooding in from all corners of the universe, offering startling news that the Empire was gathering its ranks together.

"They know." Keith growled from the balcony, watching the new ships dock. 

It was a truth they had to accept. They had to assume that their attack would be expected. How they knew, was not such an important question. How much they knew, that was what mattered. Shiro walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his mate's middle. 

"It's unfortunate, but not unexpected. The Empire keeps a careful eye on us. We're doing the same thing they are."

Keith huffed, laying his hand over Shiro's. He knew it was expected. All of their moves seemed to be anticipated. It troubled him though. "Lotor came out of the shadows to see you. He was drawn by something."

"He was drawn by _you_."

"He hasn't even seen me!" Keith cried out in exasperation, turning in the man's embrace.

Shiro settled his hands on the man's hips, soothing him with a soft rumble. "That's exactly why he came to us."

"What?"

"I have a theory."

Keith groaned, leaning his forehead into the man's chest. "Shiro, I don't want to hear theories right now..."

"This is important."

Would it make him feel better? Keith thought it unlikely, but his mate was insistent. "Fine."

"I think that Lotor believed you had gone--that you had been driven mad."

"You can say 'insane', Shiro. My feelings aren't so fragile. And I _did_ go crazy. So did you. We were both out of our minds."

Shiro grunted. He did not deny that. "But we didn't stay like that. That was what Lotor had not anticipated. I think that he let me escape the facility."

Keith's head shot up, eyes wide. "What?"

"I've thought about it for awhile. He kept us apart for three years. I was in the heart of the Galra Empire. If he had wanted, he could have killed me any second. He could have kept me hidden for even longer. But somehow you found me. Did that ever seem strange to you?"

Keith frowned, turning his eyes away. Were he honest, he would admit that it had always sat ill with him, how easy it had been breaking Shiro free of the facility. He had always suspected that something was amiss, perhaps that they were being fed information, but he had not cared. All he cared about was getting his mate back. 

Realization struck him suddenly. His grief over his lost mate was well documented. He had not given up on Shiro...for awhile at least. Dangling news of Shiro's whereabouts would have been an obvious draw for the team. To what end, if not to draw them into a trap and immediately kill them? He had always wondered. 

"He let you rescue me," Shiro continued slowly, "so that I could get close to you. He new what that proximity would do to you; what it would do to me."

Something heavy descended upon Keith and it took him several long moments to shake off his stupor and realize that he was being crushed by the weight of his ignorance. 

"Of course he knew." he said blandly, slamming his curled fist into his forehead. "Stupid! I should have--!"

" _Stop that_!" Shiro snatched his hand away, leaning in to kiss the red welt forming on Keith's brow. "You had too many things to focus on. It doesn't matter that we didn't realize until now. What matters is that we have the upper hand now."

"Upper hand--how can you think that?"

"Because we _do_ , baby!" he took Keith's face in his hands and held him firm. "Lotor doesn't know that you're safe. He doesn't know that you have been tracking him. He doesn't know how well the both of us are, how we work together, how much we love each other. He doesn't know our strength. He's doomed to underestimate us."

Keith could not bring himself to contradict Shiro. He could not believe in their supposed upper-hand himself, but he contented himself to believe in Shiro's conviction. His body and mind weren't the only things that had withered in the wake of the feral beast being unleashed upon them; all hope had vanished. Lotor's victory loomed before him at all times. There were moment he still believed the prince had already defeated them. 

Taking a watery breath, he leaned his forehead into Shiro's chest, burying his face and, he hoped, his worries. As long as Shiro was there, warm hands on his back, stroking through his hair, he could try to believe. The sliver of hope his mate had managed to salvage from within his battered heart was all he had left. 

=====

For how famed they were, the great paladins of Voltron, defenders of the universe, fighters of freedom, the faces of the rebellion, it was damn hard for Lance to find his teammates at times. Hunk and Pidge were usually in the shipping yard, working tirelessly to update the battleships. More often than not, Shiro and Allura were playing diplomat, plotting with their allies. Sometimes the two alphas were in the training hall, blowing off some steam. Keith though, Keith was impossible to keep track of. It seemed every day he had a new hiding spot. Lance was unsure if that was an omega thing, a Keith thing, or an abuse victim thing. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.

After an hour of plumbing the depths of the Olkari stronghold, he finally came across the man, sitting quietly in the center of an empty training hall. From a distance, he thought Keith might have fallen asleep, the man was slumped over in such an awkward position. But, no, Lance realized, his friend was merely deep in thought, lost to whatever monumental vision he was meditating upon.

"Hey." he called loudly, stepping into the room with caution.

Keith snapped upright, turning to scowl at him. 

Lance paused. "Bad time?"

There was never a good time for anything now, Keith thought. There were not enough hours in the day for all that they needed to accomplish. "It's fine. Did you need something?"

"Not exactly. I just wanted to check up on you."

"How thoughtful." Keith snorted, stretching his back and grimacing at the painful pop at the base of his spine. "I'm fine, Lance. But you apparently think otherwise."

What exactly did 'fine' mean in Keith terms? Physically well? Mentally stable? Alive? Honestly, his friend was still a great mystery to him, fifteen years after the fact. He knew that Keith was well enough to joke and laugh now. That was reassuring at least. When it came down to it, Lance supposed he was there to reassure himself.

With a sigh, he sat down on the ground by the man, making some comment about how tired his feet were. Keith concurred. The times were tedious.

"So..." he struggled to think of where to begin.

Keith grinned at him. "Are you going to call me fat too, like you called Shiro?"

"What? I--he told you about that?"

"Of course he did. You hurt his alpha pride."

Lance huffed. "Can't help it, he's been putting on some weight. I said it wasn't a bad thing!"

Lance wasn't wrong. In fact, Keith had noticed just the other day how much bulk his mate had put on. The sallow, starved man was no more. Shiro's muscles had filled out once more. He was again the pinnacle of alpha masculinity. It was no wonder he could not keep his hands off of the man. 

His grin grew wider. "Well, he has had a tremendous appetite since we've gotten back together."

"Really?" Lance scratched the back of his head. "He seems to eat normally when we eat together. Hell, sometimes I think he doesn't eat enough. He barely touches breakfast sometimes."

_Because he's already had a full breakfast of milk_ , Keith thought, chortling to himself. At Lance's prodding of what was so funny, he shook his head. That was a detail best kept between him and is mate. 

"What's been on your mind, Lance? Are you worried about the attack?"

"Surprisingly...no. I'm not even worried about anything. I'm--I don't know. I'm conflicted, but I'm happy."

"About?"

"You and Shiro. I think it's great what's happening. I'm just sad, I guess. We've been a team so long, I--"

"Lance, what are you talking about?"

The inevitable, that's what he was talking about. It would happen one day or another, he just hadn't expect it to happen so soon.

Lance picked at the laces of his boots thoughtfully. "I can see you pulling away. You're still training, but you're not as present as you used to be. I know you're still recovering. Maybe I'm being paranoid. It just feels like you're moving away, getting ready to drop out of the team."

He had wanted reassurance that he was just delusional. Instead, he received crushing confirmation.

Keith stared at him steadily. "You're right. I am planning on dropping out of the team once this attack is over."

All at once the air left Lance's lungs. He had known. He had guessed. He had sought his friend out knowing the answer, but still he was shocked to hear it from Keith's own lips. So this was it. The end of Lotor and the end of team Voltron. Everything that they had created together for the past fifteen years was drawing to a close. The adventure truly was over.

Keith sighed. He knew that the news would be met with disappointment from all parties. Even Shiro, who intimately understood why he was removing himself from active duty come the end of the war, had gone silent for a long minute after his announcement. It would be a monumental change for all of them, but he needed it. If only for a little while.

"Don't look so upset." he chided his friend, slapping Lance's shoulder, "It's not like I'm leaving the castle. I'll still be here with Shiro. With the family."

_I just need a break._

The truth hung heavily in the air between them. And Lance understood. He only wanted what was best for his friend, his teammate, his family. Change was inevitable. This change though might be for the best, he thought, smiling at Keith.

"You're going to be such a housewife."

Keith snorted. "I already am; Shiro can't figure out a washing machine if his life depended on it."

Now there was an image that left Lance in side-splitting laughter. Shiro, alpha of all alphas, Head of Voltron, leader of the rebellion...incapable of maneuvering around a washing machine. The man really did need Keith. Without him, Shiro was lost. They all knew it.

=====

Sometimes when Shiro shut his eyes he was able to envision the secluded riverbed by the garrison where he and Keith used to sneak to during their free time. The furious sun would beat down their backs as they flew through the sandy desert dunes, sweat whipping from their forehead as they tested the limits of the speeder's abilities. The air was always humid and heavy, like a blanket over their bare skin. When the wind blew, it was warm and friendly. It was welcoming. 

Olkari was like that too. When the wind blew, he was reminded of the happy days of his youth, testing the garrison cruisers in the desert, tumbling with his mate in the riverbed, away from the prying eyes of classmates, huddling together on the dormitory roof as they watched a golden sunset, shivering as the evening crept in. Shiro missed earth the longer they stayed on Olkari, but the memories brought to the surface were enough to sustain him.

The sunsets on Olkari were much different, the sun larger, warmer, more red. It was beautiful, but it was not an earth sunset. Standing on the viewing deck overlooking the shipping yard, he could watch as the red giant sank behind the forest of black trees. It was enough like home that Shiro could pretend. 

"Deep in thought?" a cheerful voice called.

Shiro hummed, turning to find Coran standing at the doorway, maintaining a respectable distance. He smiled. "Just enjoying a quiet moment."

"Those are rare now." the Altean said, stepping closer. "How are you?"

It had been some time since anyone had asked him. Shiro was momentarily nonplussed. Since the advent of his serum injections, his well-being had no longer been a concern. Of more worry was how his mate was taking to his ever-changing medical treatments. 

"I'm--fine." That seemed a decent answer. 

Coran eyed him, as if uncertain whether or not to believe him. Apparently the answer sufficed. "And Keith? I have not seen him much lately. I was worried."

Shiro smiled fondly. "Keith is fine--he's good. He's been in the training hall almost every day, getting his strength back. When he isn't there, he's with Ryvaina, meditating."

"To help relieve his stress?"

"No."

Shiro wished that were the case; meditation would have worked wonders for Keith's stress, he was sure. As was, when his mate was mentally and physically exhausted, which seemed to be frequent now, he took to his bed. Shiro envied him that ability. Every day he was swamped with meeting after meeting, talking tactics and strategy until his brain went numb and he no longer understood the words coming from his own mouth. 

He sighed, fixing his gaze on the sliver of red sun still visible through the breaks in the treeline. "Keith is working on locating Lotor. It's tricky right now, he says. Lotor knows we're looking for him."

After days of meditating, Keith claimed to have a vague idea of where the prince was located. The bond was weakening though; Lotor was preventing him from seeking the man out. Shiro did not mention that the prince might have attempted to break the bond, now that he knew how Keith's barren state. He had dashed all of the prince's dark dreams by spilling that secret. Even without the ease of locating the prince, Shiro could not say he would be upset if Lotor had broken the bond. 

Coran's mouth twitched beneath his mustache, expression wary. He looked upon Keith as a son, Shiro knew. All that had befallen the young omega had torn at Coran's heart. For years the Altean had helped guide Keith, taught him to understand how powerful he was, taught him to love and trust. Seeing Keith so broken that he contemplated ending his own life must have been torture for Coran. 

"I hope that Keith is strong enough to see this battle through." Coran said quietly, hiding his true feelings. 

They all hoped the same. Thus far, Keith's resolve had held firm, but there was no telling what the coming days might bring. As the day of reckoning drew closer, so did the inevitability that they would need to face Lotor. That was something that Keith might not ever be ready to do. 

"Me too, Coran. Me too."


	32. chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is concerned for his health and Keith concedes that the man has every right to be. There is too much at stake though to risk upsetting his alpha with the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we had an unexpected delay last week! I lost about half of the chapter--or more--so I had to rewrite everything. Hopefully it turned out better than before. Remember to check my Kofi page (ko-fi.com/kittypox) and my tumblr (kittypox) for updates! I'm pretty consistent about keeping those two pages updated with what's going on.
> 
> Anyway! Two more chapters left! And, as we're approaching the end, there will probably be two week gaps between posting for the next chapters. There is a lot of ground to cover between this point and the end of the fic and I want to make sure I do it justice. 
> 
> So, onward we go!

A stunning crimson sunset was falling over Olkari, painting the city a soft shade of rose, all the world momentarily stalled, entrapped in a beam of shining, soft light. Keith hated it. The beauty of the scene he could appreciate, though it pained him. With an agitated groan, he slammed a pillow over his head and screwed his eyes tightly shut. Even with the blinds drawn, the pain would not leave him. He was not surprised, just disappointed. The light wasn't the cause of his pain, just an irritant.

_Damned migraines..._

They had never plagued him before. Up until quite recently, he had been a model of good health; rarely did he fall ill, injuries did not stop him from performing his paladin duties, and on occasions that he did end up off his feet, his recovery was always speedy. All fortunate galra traits he had inherited from his mother, Keith thought. His threshold for pain was massive compared to the others. Perhaps, in the wake of his great fall, that threshold had plummeted. He was at last experiencing what his human teammates felt when they complained of splitting headaches and nausea inducing dizziness. 

It wasn't just a migraine though. Much as he wished it were something so mundane, Keith knew better than to try and fool himself. The pain had consumed him for some two weeks now, draining him of all strength. Behind closed eyelids, his eyeballs throbbed, threatening to burst from pressure. Spears of pain lanced through his temples, blood hammering like a drum with each beat of his pulse. It was excruciating just to be awake. Standing in the light made his symptoms worse and he often had to sit to avoid physical sickness. Hunting was taking a toll on him. 

_No rest for the wicked_ , he sighed to himself, briefly considering slipping away to find a secluded spot and take a much needed rest.

He decided against it quickly enough. Even had the pain not been stopping him, it was tedious, searching out a quiet spot to temporarily nest. Olkari was teeming with refugees and soldiers, the castle halls teeming with people. Even the Castle of Lions, carrying members of the Blade of Marmora and other coalition members, was too loud for his tastes. Quiet was what Keith liked. Quiet was what he needed; as such, he would often sneak away from the city, slipping secretly into the forest to take his ease. Only there had he found true peace. The worries of the day faded with the sounds of the bustling city. The rich, sweet air filled his lungs, cleared his mind, and he was able to rest. 

Until Shiro came to fetch him. 

The man's damaged sense of smell did not deter the alpha from hunting his mate. When Keith slipped away, Shiro was always shortly behind. Without the ability to smell his mate though, Shiro relied on the strength of their bond to guide him. It took only several minutes for the man to find him, much to Keith's annoyance.

"You need to stop hiding from me." Shiro had chastised him after he had made the man chase him all the way to the edge of the forest, nearing a whole other town. 

Keith had mewled apologetically, not fighting when his alpha stooped to scoop him up into his arms. "I wasn't hiding; I came out here to rest."

"You can do that in the castle."

"I don't want to rest in the castle."

Several heated words were exchanged; less an argument and more of a spat. The moment passed and soon enough they were back in their nest within the Olkari castle, Shiro urging him onto his belly so that he could properly claim his mate. An exhausting hour later, Shiro's alpha libido was sated and they were curled together beneath the layers of blankets. Still, the itch to be away from the castle called for relief and Keith slipped from bed, only to be snatched back up and pinned to the bed. He had spent all night beneath the bulk of the his mate's impressive body, dozing on and off as Shiro's rut demanded satisfaction. 

It had been a spirited, if not taxing, evening, Keith thought as he threw the blankets off and swung his feet over the bedside. without the warmth of Shiro's body draped over him, the bed no longer held appeal. Comfortable as the blankets were, the castle itself irritated him in a way he had never experienced before. His entire body was out of sorts, but that was not surprising. He hadn't been right for weeks.

His hand flew to his neck, fingers resting over the jagged ridge of scarring. He had a job to do. Everyone was working tirelessly on the war efforts. Lance, he knew, spent his days training with the military; day and night, Pidge and Hunk could be found in the hangars, fixing the battleships with all sorts of new equipment; Allura, Coran, and Shiro could be counted on to be in some meeting or grand coalition conference. Only he seemed to be idle, more often than not in bed, wasting time away. 

That could not stand, he decided with a grimace. He had a job, he was just not doing it. He had one of the most important jobs. If they did not know where Lotor was, there could be no attack. Everyone turned to him for guidance. Once he found Lotor, they could begin. 

Pulling his clothing on, he considered the best place to set himself to work. He needed solitude, silence, preferably some place without light. His head was near bursting, but he had to work through the agony. A dark room then. And he thought he knew of one such place. 

=====

Even after all those years, the stars still called to him. It was a hum that never quite left his ears, reaching into the deepest part of himself and drawing out that innocent child, dazzled and awed by all the universe held. After all he had been through, Keith still felt the thrall of the constellations, the mystery of far off worlds, the hope of a future dancing through the galaxies as a pilot of great respect. The dreams could become so vivid, he was able to momentarily forget about Voltron, about the war, and just appreciate being.

The domed ceiling of the observation deck granted him an uninhibited view of the purple sky as it darkened to a smokey navy, the stars bursting to life as bright white fireballs in the sky. So many stars. More than he could count; he could not even try. It was a refreshing sight. Even at the garrison, there had been so much light pollution that one would need a telescope to see the true grandeur of the stars. He used to lay on his back with Shiro between his legs, kissing hungrily at his neck while he mapped out the familiar constellations. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He missed those days, sprawled beneath a canopy of velvet blackness with his mate's warmth enveloping him. Days were simpler then, when they only had to worry about making it to graduation and thinking up ways to survive the two years apart when Shiro left for Kerberos. Perhaps things weren't simpler, Keith thought. Perhaps they were just more innocent. The heartache when Shiro departed for Kerberos was as poignant then as his heartbreak at his lost mate was three years ago. 

It didn't truly matter. The past was the past. He needed to focus on the future. The future was depending on him. Snatching up a pillow from one of the sitting areas, he threw it to the ground and collapsed on top of it. The light in the room was just dim enough that the relentless aching of his eyes did not overcome his ability to think. 

_Just focus_ , Keith told himself, settling onto his back with his head cradled in the pillow. Above him, the stars roared, twinkling and flashing in blinding beauty. For a minute, he lost himself in their splendor, dreaming of the warm tropical planets in the Karbon galaxy and the three suns of planet Ga'al. 

_Focus._

A powerful shake of his head dislodged the thoughts and he was back on task. No matter how little he actually wished to do this, he had to. The battle hinged on his finding Lotor. The universe depended on him. Shiro depended on him. 

_Deep breaths. Focus._

It was always easier said than done. His heart seemed to forever be stammering, his blood pressure much higher than it ought to be for one so young. Fear had crippled him, Keith thought, frowning at the stars. The only moments of tranquility, where he felt absolutely safe, were when he was tucked away in the security of his mate's arm. That truth made him sick to his stomach for seeking out the prince. There was some delicious irony somewhere, Keith was certain, but he had not the energy to dwell on it. 

Some fifteen minutes later, he had his breathing under control. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. Meditating was not supposed to be so difficult, he groused internally. It was not supposed to cause pain, but he supposed he wasn't simply meditating. He was hunting.

A scowl leaped to his face. _Where are you, you son of a bitch?_

The mark at the base of his neck tingled, throbbing in time with his heavy pulse. In the great distance, he could feel Lotor; far, yet near enough that his mark was responding. He tried fiercely to ignore the angry, jealous throbbing of Shiro's mark. They could not afford such distractions; he could have his mate tend to the mark later. 

His call was being answered. A tendril of energy slipped into his conscious, nudging gently yet insistently at the edges of his mind. A deceptive touch, meant to lull him into a false state of security. It had worked once before and he had suffered immensely for it. The dark memory hung heavily in the forefront of Keith's mind and he instinctively shied away from the connection. It followed after him persistently, darting each way he went.

_Stop running_ , he chastised himself. Lotor was reciprocating his call. If he wanted to find the mongrel prince, he had to let the man in. 

=====

Miles away, Shiro knew that something was amiss; he could feel it in his blood. He paused mid sentence, faltering beneath the scrutiny of the coalition members as a painful plucking at the back of his neck demanded attention. Keith. His mate desperately needed him. 

"I'm sorry." He stood abruptly, to the confusion of the members. "An emergency has just popped up. I--I have to leave."

Allura rose as he dashed from the room to a hail of anxious whispers. It was all highly irregular, someone declared loudly while the princess called for order once more. Someone else called after him, perhaps Pidge, asking if he needed help. Shiro did not know; he could not think. He was consumed with a raging need to find his mate. 

=====

It was hell all over again, Shiro thought, running from the door towards his thrashing mate. Fists battered his chest and face, striking at him in blind terror. He remembered this horrid moment, exactly like that night after the bar fight. He remembered Keith's cries of fear and hiccuping sobs, remembered his own rank terror as his mate struggled in his arms, desperate to get away. What was the cause now though, he wondered in panic as he gripped the man tightly. Keith had been in the middle of the fit when he had arrived, so he couldn't possibly be the cause of the trauma...could he?

"Keith! Calm down! I'm here! Your Shiro is here!"

The man jerked violently, head colliding against his shoulder. "No! Oh god--!"

Nails sank into his arm and Shiro hissed. He had endured his mate's clawing before. He needed to endure now--for Keith's sake. Burying his face into the mess of his mate's hair, he secured an arm around Keith's waist, using the other to stroke soothingly down his back.

"It's me, baby. Come back. Come back to me. I'm here."

Keith was calming, but not quickly enough. Though the violent thrashing had ceased and the man did not seemed to be a danger to either of them any longer, his heartbroken bawling had not ceased. Keith was trapped inside his head, Shiro realized with a shudder. It was a terrible place to be and with all of the recent talk of Lotor--he had to snap Keith out of it.

Upon later reflection, Shiro was uncertain why exactly he had done what he did, but intuition told him that it was what was needed. He turned Keith in his arms, burrowing his nose into the man's neck before sinking his teeth into his mating mark. Keith cried out, jerking, then abruptly went still, his cries dying. Still Shiro hung on, teeth deep in his mate's flesh, blood pooling in his mouth. Beneath his palm, he could feel Keith's hammering heart slow. 

Minutes later, he felt confident enough to relax his jaw and pull away. Keith slumped into his chest bonelessly, groaning in pain. 

"Shir---"

Keith's words were cut off, his eyelids flying open as he lurched forward. Shiro did not react as warm bile splattered onto his lap. He slid his hand to his mate's shoulder, rumbling soothingly as Keith retched, body convulsing with the force of his sickness. The stench was stomach churning, but Shiro had smelled much worse. Years of dealing with rotting, infected arena wounds and the scent of medical labs had toughened his stomach. Vomit moved him little. Antiseptic though--that scent made him ill.

"That's it, Keith, let it out."

The man gripped his sleeve, garbling some apology before another bout of watery vomit spewed from his mouth. 

"Aww, baby. We need to find out why you keep getting so sick."

Words were failing Keith. He knew why he was sick, but did not have the capacity to communicate it to his mate. He managed to choke out a strangled 'migraine', before folding over in a tremor of weakness. He might have avoided his moment of sickness, Keith thought, had Shiro not rushed in and grabbed him. With his head in shambles as was, he could not stomach having his dizzying vision thrown about in the man's haste. His stomach had leaped into his throat at all of the jerking and shoving. 

"Shiro..."

"I'm here, baby." He brushed aside Keith's bangs and placed a kiss to his forehead. "Let's get you back to bed."

That was all they could do, Keith thought glumly. He fought against another tremor of nausea as Shiro hefted him into his arms, tactfully ignoring the puddle of sopping bile staining their clothing. They needed to apologize profusely to whoever had the misfortune of cleaning up after them. Biting down on his tongue, Keith was able to swallow the coming wave of acrid bile. 

_Just get us back to our room_ , he pleaded silently, curling into his mate's chest miserably. 

Knair and Ryvaina could come to them. The only place Shiro trusted Keith's safety was in their nest, heap of blankets that it was. Comfort was the most important thing to an omega. So long as Keith was comfortable...

He must have looked intimidating, like a true alpha warrior, with his jaw set and eyes burning dangerously, to say nothing of his limp mate laying in his arms. When he passed through a bustling hall, the crowd parted for him, voices falling into hushed tones. Any glance he threw was met with a bashful expression before the other's gaze was hastily averted. 

_Good_. He already knew word of Keith's weakness would spread among the ranks. Had he not been thoroughly focused on getting his mate safely to the nest, he would have taken a moment to set them straight. Not important, he supposed. Or, at least, not the most important thing that moment. If words needed to be had after the fact, he would happily take up the cause. 

In the confines of their room, he carefully set Keith in the nest, draping layers of blankets over him before rushing to draw the shades. Darkness flooded in and he was momentarily blinded, groping helplessly at the air as he stumbled back towards the bed. Keith had shifted, sitting up with a sad keen as he tossed his soiled clothing aside. Shiro's own garments quickly joined and he carefully climbed into the nest. 

"Keith?"

Keith eased himself into the blankets with delicate care. "I'm fine."

As if he could believe that. Shiro had been hearing that lame excuse for weeks now. He had ceased to believe it. "You said you had a migraine?"

The man's disbelieving tone was understandable. He had never been prone to such things before. It wasn't exactly a migraine, but Keith could not find proper words to describe the pain. He could not liken it to any other malady. Migraine was good enough. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, his entire equilibrium was thrown off, and he was plagued by nausea. 

"Migraine." Keith sighed, laying his head down. The pounding behind his eyes had relented some in the darkness, but it was not enough. A good rest and he thought he might be in better shape. 

Shiro was not to be deterred though. He leaned over Keith, sniffing gently at his nape. "What brought it on?"

Keith did not immediately answer. He was choosing his words carefully, which Shiro did not appreciate. He was used to Keith withholding unpleasant information, but he had no patience for it then.

"Now is not the time to be keeping secrets, Keith."

'I'm not--" he paused. "Alright. Alright...I'll tell you. After a nap."

"Keith!"

"I'm exhausted!" the man protested, voice cracking. 

He did not need to point out that he had purged all contents from his stomach mere minutes ago when the foul odor still hung in the air. Emptying his stomach had not made him feel any better. If anything, he felt worse, but it was too soon yet to try and fill his belly, even with something light.

"I just need an hour." he murmured, turning his cheek into the folds of blanket. 

The weight of Shiro's displeasure was palpable, but the man did not say anything against him. The rumble in the alpha's chest was telling enough. Keith could not find the energy to fret overly much. The pain in his head and the angry roiling of his stomach dulled his ability to care. He fell asleep to the rhythmic throbbing of his temples, barely conscious when his mate curled around him, large hands settling on his back and hip. 

======

"Shiro?"

Keith was calling for his mate before his eyes had even opened, groping through the blankets for a warm body that he instinctively knew was not there. Insulted alpha, he thought, sitting up and rubbing at his aching eyes. The worst of the pain had ebbed, though a ring of tension circled his crown. He could live. He had taken worse wounds in his years.

After depositing their soiled clothing into a wash chute-- _Thank you, Shiro, for proving how helpless an alpha you are_ \--he pulled on a set of clean clothes and scrubbed his face in the bathroom. Looking back at him in the mirror was a haggard looking face, gaunt and pinched. 

"Ugh." 

Tugging at the hem of his new favorite red shirt, he contemplated his next move. Shiro would be back soon, he suspected. His alpha never liked to leave him alone too long when he was ill. Something important must have demanded the man's attention. That was fine; the longer Shiro was gone, the longer he delayed his visit to the infirmary. He was growing tired of seeing Knair on a daily basis and he imagined the feeling was mutual. 

It was a good time to take a walk, he decided. Night had descended, but the warmth of Olkari made it a pleasant place to take an evening stroll. Strapping his sword into place, he carefully left a note for his mate explaining where he had gone. It was the considerate thing to do. Not that Shiro needed a note; the man's grasp of their mating bond had grown more powerful than he had known it could be. 

It was comforting, he decided as he strolled through the dusty streets beneath the green glow of artificial lights. Lotor, strong as his pull was, could not rival the strength of Shiro's bond. Had it always been so strong? Keith wasn't certain. To be sure, back on earth, it had always _felt_ strong. No one had ever compared to Shiro. He had never had any interest in another, alpha or otherwise. Without even trying, Shiro had drawn him towards that shinning, golden light the man always seemed to emit. 

They were a good pair, he decided with a confident nod of his head. Opposites attract, so they said, and he and Shiro were nothing if not opposites. He was the cold to Shiro's warmth, the unfeeling logic to Shiro's emotionalism, the timid and frightened to Shiro's bravado. How someone like Shiro could actually be attracted to him was another question, but he had decided that he no longer cared. He and his mate were together and blissfully happy with one another. It did not need to make sense.

A mile or so from the heart of the city, the buildings grew smaller, more homey. Families sat together, circled round hearty fires on wicker looking chairs, laughing and smiling together. Everywhere he looked, his eye fell on some sort of plant or tree, the city appearing to be a sort of Babylonian paradise. High tech city aside, Keith still liked the place. 

A stones throw from the bustling hub of commerce, he was swallowed by the great forest of Black Alders and pine like trees the size of skyscrapers. Stuffed and crowded as the city was with lingering refugees and soldiers for the upcoming attack, there was still a pervasive sense of peace about, a sense of solitude and off silence, both of which he needed dearly. 

There was a particular spot he liked, a secluded glen overlooking a lake of marine colored water. In the daylight it shimmered like glass; in the evening darkness, it reflected the specks of stars able to peek through the canopy. Seated between the massive roots of an Alder tree, a sense of ease wrapped around Keith, allowing the tension to bleed from his shoulders and the pain to die to naught but a slight jabbing irritation now and again. 

He shut his eyes, drawing in a breath of clean air. So fresh. He was beginning to doubt what he had told Lance days ago; maybe once he and Shiro retired they _would_ leave the ship. He could see them living happily on Olkari for the rest of their days. That could be a pleasant way to spend their golden years.

A crunching of twigs sounded off in the distance. Fear rushed in, his body tensing painfully before the familiar scent of alpha male reached his nose. 

"You found me." he mumbled, without opening his eyes.

The footsteps came closer. "Keith..."

"I left you a note."

Shiro sank down beside him, leaning against the solid bulk of the tree trunk. "I didn't see it. When I came back to the room, you were gone, so I--"

"Immediately ran out to find me." Keith turned his head, opening his eyes to stare in amusement at his mate. "How protective of my alpha."

Protective or paranoid? Shiro was beginning to blur the lines between the two. Perhaps he did need to see Knair about altering his serum doses. He would run himself to exhaustion if he kept worrying after Keith, chasing the man everywhere he went. 

What exactly was he worried about, he wondered, snaking an arm around Keith's shoulder and pulling him close. Lotor was far away, but still he could not stand the idea of his mate being alone. Alone meant in potential danger. It did not matter to his alpha id that Keith was more than capable of protecting himself. 

_Maybe it's the rut_ , he thought hopefully. Rut brain was hell for all parties involved.

"Sorry." He honestly was.

Keith purred, leaning into his shoulder. 

"How's your head?"

"Well," Keith tried not to smile at how his mate failed to hide his anxiousness. Subtlety was not always Shiro's strong suit. "I felt well enough to leave the castle. That's telling enough, isn't it?"

Shiro supposed it was.Then again, Keith had the bad habit of pushing himself when he ought to be resting and recovering instead. Chastising the man right then would do nothing but antagonize Keith and he wanted the man to open up to him. He knew Keith was keeping secrets from him. The fit he had walked in on earlier was proof of that. Knowing that his mate suffered such attacks alone and in silence frightened him. 

He gripped Keith tighter. "What happened earlier?" He was mindful to keep his tone even and unaccusing. "You were--you looked like you were having a seizure or something."

There was a beat of silence.

"Or something." Keith murmured. 

Patience, Shiro reminded himself. Keith would open up in time. He just had to wait. Perhaps it would not happen that day, but it would happen eventually. With a soft sigh, Keith settled against him, eyes drifting shut once more. The subtle, pleasant scent of contentment reached Shiro's nose and he instinctively calmed. Patience was not such a harsh demand. If Keith was happy and well, he should not worry overly much. Until such a time that his mate was prepared to speak, he would remain attentive to the man's needs. 

While his mate dozed, Shiro turned his gaze towards the calm lake and surrounding mountains. In a universe filled with strange, alien people and places, he found Olkari to be surprisingly like home. The colors, the smells, even the architecture to a point was much like the grand cities of earth. Sitting beneath the solemn majesty of the mountains, he could not tell the difference between those great monoliths and the ranges of the American desert where they had roamed in their garrison days.

"I can see why you suggested we stay here." he whispered, turning his head to press a kiss to the crown of Keith's head. 

The idea of retiring from Voltron had grown appealing in the last few years. Between captivity, countless deaths of allies, battles, personal loss and injuries, the very idea that he might escape the war with his life was nearly unthinkable. He wanted to live. He wanted to grow old with his mate. He wanted a storybook ending and if they were not the most deserving people in the universe, Shiro did not know who was.

At ease, exhaustion swelled in. His eyelids suddenly felt like lead and Shiro could not think of a single reason why he ought not allow himself a brief repose. War meetings? Sorting supplies? None of it mattered. With the heavy scent of happy omega overcoming his senses, he ignored the rest of the world and sank away.

...And came back to himself some hours later, skin prickling in goosebumps as a chill wind blew. The sky was black, exaggerated by the dense forest surrounding them. A bolt of panic raced up his spine.

"Oh...shit."

Keith was leaning against him heavily, as deep asleep as he had been when Shiro had first shut his eyes. They needed to get back, Shiro thought anxiously, carefully shifting so that he could scoop his mate in his arms without jostling the man too much. He hated disturbing Keith when he slept. Fortunately, whatever malady tormented his mate had the one pleasant side effect of keeping him solidly asleep. 

As always, eyes followed them as he carried Keith through the city, murmurs of suspicion whispered behind his back. It happened far more than Shiro liked. He despised the knowledge that his mate's strength was doubted. Keith had grown to be a point of dispute among the coalition. Some demanded he step down, while others ardently defended him, reminding the others of how vital a role Keith played. None of them knew how taxed the man truly was. Snapping in anger, sick from his work, falling asleep at meetings--Keith appeared weak, but he knew that those were mere inconveniences to Keith. The torment Keith suffered was far worse.

The man's hands latched lightly to his shoulders as he deposited Keith in bed. Lashes fluttered and for a moment it appeared that Keith was waking, but his head rolled back at the last moment and he remained asleep. 

Shiro sighed, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind the man's ear. "I'm worried about you, baby."

"Nnn..."

_Patience._

There were hundreds, if not thousands of things that they needed to concentrate on. Nothing was more important than Keith's health, but prying would do no good. Tomorrow he would ask again, to ascertain that the fit was, at the very least, nothing of great concern. Of course it was, but Shiro had a sinking sense that it was a stress reaction; too many memories of Prince Lotor had come to the surface recently and Keith was desperately trying to sort through his past trauma and the current demand to find the prince. 

There was little more he could do that night, other than stand watch. Carefully tucking the blankets around his sleeping mate, he sat back, cushioned by the mountain of pillows Keith had begun to hoard. He would pay for his paranoia come the morning when he could not stand to drag himself from bed, Shiro thought with a crooked smile, but it was worth it.

=====

Ryvaina hummed into Keith's ear, a low tone that magically soothed his nerves. It eased his aching muscles, if nothing else. She could do little for the vomiting or the relentless band of pain circling his forehead and stabbing his brain with every beat of his heart. A tonic might be prepared, but at the moment, Keith was uncertain if he could keep it down. 

When the fit had seemed to pass, Ryvaina dug her hands beneath his arms and hefted him to his feet, leaning his weight against her as if it were nothing. Together they stumbled from the bathroom; a grunt of effort escaped the woman once as she fought against his weak, swaying body. How embarrassing, Keith thought, furiously attempting to keep his legs beneath him. He should have eaten breakfast before starting in on his work. Stupid of him. He caught sight of the tray Shiro had thoughtfully left at the bedside for him, cold now and entirely unappetizing. 

"I will bring you an herbal tea and some warm stew later." Ryvaina said, dropping him into bed.

Keith grunted, dragging himself to his side of the bed and yanking the blankets over his body. "Much later."

"You need sustenance soon." she said reasonably, taking out a handheld scanner and checking his vitals. Her lips twitched into a frown. "You have overexerted yourself once again."

Of that, Keith was keenly aware. Hunting Lotor often left him aching, pain radiating from multiple points of his body, weak, and ill. Shiro doted upon him with all the concern of a proper alpha mate, demanding that his doctors fix his medication. They did not appreciate his alpha rage, but Keith had not had the strength of will to confess to his mate the real cause of his sickness. 

The time had come, he thought with a sigh, lifting a hand to massage his temple. His work was done. He could now succumb to the pressure Shiro put on him to erase the prince's foul mark. 

"Will you--" he coughed, dislodging a wad of bile stuck in his throat, "will you send Shiro to me? I need to tell him. He needs to know that I found--"

"I will send your mate. For now, rest. You have tapped your strength to the last reserve."

He felt it. He hadn't the strength left to lift his head, even as Ryvaina leaned over and pricked a syringe into the crook of his elbow. It was a minor irritation, happily overlooked as a rush of relief flooded his veins. With the pain ebbing, his thoughts cleared somewhat. Sleep was nagging at him, attempting to drag him into darkness, but he fought, trying to prepare his words for his mate.

Valiant though his battle was, he lost and fell into a heavy sleep. How long had passed, Keith was uncertain. When he woke, the angle of the light had changed drastically. It could have been hours. He prayed it had not been days. Shooting upright, he cringed as a bolt of pain lanced through his head.

"Careful, baby."

He screeched, reaching beneath his pillow for his knife before reason settled in and he realized it was merely Shiro, sitting calmly at the foot of the bed, watching with a worried expression. 

"You scared me." Keith huffed, placing the knife in his lap.

"I could say the same. You were dead asleep when I got here. You've barely moved for hours."

Keith grunted. "Morphine." 

Was it just morphine though, Shiro wondered with a stiff frown. No amount of prodding or calling Keith's name had roused the man. When he had lifted his mate into his arms, Keith lolled like a rag doll. It frightened him.

"Keith, I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Keith did not ask what he meant. He knew. "...Me too."

"I just--" Shiro shook his head, sighing in frustration. "You looked _dead_ , Keith. You weren't moving, I couldn't wake you. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Yes..."

"You look like death. You literally look like you're dying!"

He hoped that his mate was exaggerating. Sallow and gaunt as his skin was, he was still alive. Every fit of vomiting left him with tears in his eyes and a bright flush to his cheeks. He had never felt so miserable and yet so alive. Of course Shiro would be concerned though. The bags under his eyes were black now, never leaving despite how much sleep he managed to steal. He shook and heaved and stumbled with every step he took. He saw why Shiro was so concerned. He would be lying if he did not admit that from time to time that he was frightened for his own well being as well.

Keith shut his eyes, fighting against a wash of exhausted tears. "I can't do this anymore." he murmured, easing onto his back.

Shiro moved like lightening, kneeling at his side and taking his hand. So compassionate. So tender. He didn't deserve someone like Shiro. The tears flowed freely; no amount of embarrassed chastising could stop them.

"Baby...what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Yes." Keith choked out, squeezing his hand fiercely. "I can't--I can't stand it anymore. I can't have him in my head anymore. It's like being torn apart from the inside out every time."

Shiro fought back a tremor of anger. Had Lotor found Keith, even at such a great distance? Was it possible? Could the bastard search Keith out as Keith did to him and force a connection? Of course...how had he overlooked the signs of Keith's failing mental walls. Only Lotor could have such a profoundly negative effect on his strong mate. 

He pressed a kiss to Keith's hand, shushing him with a soothing keen. "You're safe now, baby."

Safe. Keith did not know if there truly was such a thing as safety. No place was safe; not while Lotor remained at large. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was--"

"I know. Hunting him. I shouldn't have let you. I didn't realize how strong his grip was, how profoundly he could hurt you, even so far away."

Keith's face fell, feeling suddenly much weaker than he already was. He hated crushing Shiro's spirits. Lying to his mate had never been a habit of his. It was less a testament to his moral character than to his desire to always keep his mate happy. The truth might be unsavory, but he knew Shiro always preferred the truth. They were living in difficult times then, when the truth could have shut off the easiest venue to finding Lotor. 

As expected, when he explained as much to Shiro, the man's expression grew cold and taut. Keith suspected that it was not the deception that bothered Shiro so much as the clear fact that he distrusted the man's ability to think rationally when it came to matters of Prince Lotor. 

"Shiro, I am _so_ sorry--"

"Shhh." Shiro reached out and pushed the man's bangs from his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Keith. You were always meant to be this team's leader. You have the conviction that I've always lacked."

"W-what?"

The man sighed, a lopsided smile on his face. "Of course I'm not happy that you've put yourself at such risk to find Lotor, but even I have to concede that without your help it would take us months, if not years, to track Lotor. It could have been done better, but--you did so well."

"Shiro..."

"You found him, Keith. You did what no one else could do." Shiro swallowed heavily, fists shaking at his side. This was it--the moment they had been waiting for. Lotor was now within their grasp. "Our invasion begins _now_. And it's all thanks to you."

There was work to be done. Word needed to be sent to all of the coalition members. A timeline needed to be set, final orders put into place. Soldiers and ships needed to be readied. The sooner the better. 

Keith watched as the gears moved in his mate's mind, knowing intimately how Shiro would be drawing up a hundred plans, thinking how to execute them, accounting for every single variable that could be thought of. No matter what the man said, it was Shiro who was the leader that the rebellion needed. He had just been a stand in. That no longer bothered him; he glowed in happiness, knowing that he had saved the place for his mate.

"I need to go and tell the others." Shiro said somberly, squeezing his mate's hand. "I promise I won't take longer than necessary. An hour at most--maybe two. I--"

Keith laughed softly, squeezing back. "Shiro, please. This is important news. Go and tell the others. I won't go anywhere."

He just wanted to rest. He had performed his duty. This time, his rest was well and truly deserved. A deep sense of satisfaction filled him, much stronger than any sedative the doctors could give him. He could rest well, knowing that he had delivered on his promise to sniff out Prince Lotor. 

Before leaving, Shiro peppered a dozen kisses on his forehead, cheek, and nose. 

"Rest." he pleaded, stroking his bionic hand through Keith's hair. "You deserve it."

Before the man could retreat, Keith snatched at his hand, keening loudly. Shiro looked at him, surprised.

"Mark me. Please."

"Keith?"

"Not now, but soon--before we got into battle. I can't stand having him in my head anymore. I want you to bite over his mark. I only want you."

"Of course." Shiro moved back to the bedside, pressing their foreheads together. "As soon as I can. I'll break his bond with you. I'm your one and only mate."

Keith keened once more, high pitched and pleased. "My only alpha."

Shiro left him tucked beneath several layers of blankets, covered in kisses, comforted by a dozen sweet promises. It was not so easy to cut Lotor off from his mind, Keith, knew; it would be no simple task to close the door that he had opened. Allowing the prince in had been easy; forcing him back out would require more than just his own strength of will. He would need Shiro's help for that. Fortunately, the day of his freedom was fast approaching. 

_Imagine that_ , he thought, curling onto his side and burrowing into the blankets. _Freedom._

For that, he would risk everything.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate!
> 
> Clarity is descending as war preparations are completed; as the day of reckoning begins, they quickly see that they have miscalculated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close OMG!!

"You're certain?"

Keith shut his eyes, refraining from growling. He was not being doubted, he told himself; the others just wanted reassurance. Their attack's success hinged on Lotor's location. There was no longer room for error. An exact location was needed, otherwise they would waste a great deal of time and effort at best; at worst, they would open themselves up to a counter attack. He had to be precise. 

Taking a deep breath and crushing Shiro's hand between his own, he addressed the rest of the council. "I'm certain. Lotor opened the door between our bond and allowed me in. I was able to sense his location and narrow it down to a solar system and planet."

Planet was a generous word, he supposed, but there was no time to argue semantics. A location was a location and right then they desperately needed a location. A few members looked at him hopefully; all of their hopes were riding on him. 

_No pressure._

"Lotor is currently at a base he established on the remains of planet Diabazal."

A moment of silence passed before the coalition members burst into excited chatter. Keith sat stoically through the noise, trying not to focus too much on the voices of disbelief. When he was called to give proof of his assertions, he pinned the dissenter with a glare of fire.

"I know where Lotor is." he stated coldly and firmly, brooking no rebuttal. "I was forced to be his mate. I would be able to find him anywhere. Take my information or leave it."

His rancor was not appreciated, nor was his abrupt departure after Allura called for a brief pause. 

"I'm not needed there." he snapped at Shiro as the man chased after him, grabbing his arm firmly.

Shiro released his arm, drawing back in surprise. "Keith, I understand why you're upset, but you have to control your emotions."

The man was right of course, but Keith had found that his patience was thin as of late. He had heard the rumors and gossip surrounding him. Weak, tainted, unfit to even be a part of the coalition, much less be a figurehead of the assault. Funny how his role as paladin, Blade, and Head of Voltron for all those years meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Were he just a tad more stubborn, he would maintain his presence at the meetings just to make a point. As was, he was exhausted. He could spend his time on other pursuits rather than sit around and be the butt of ridicule and doubt--like napping. 

He scowled at the ground. He loathed napping; there was far too much to do and too little time. Unfortunately, his exhaustion had yet to abate and if he did not pause to allow himself to rest now and then, he was dead on his feet. 

Sensing his distress, Shiro reached out once more and stroked a hand through his mate's hair. "How is your head? Does it still hurt."

"No." Keith answered truthfully. 

Mostly truthfully. There was still a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes, but the pain had abated considerably. He no longer felt the desire to claw his eyeballs out just to relieve the pressure. Still, he felt fatigued, mentally battered. He supposed he was; Ryvaina was constantly warning him to take his ease. Allowing Lotor into his head had been more than just a little taxing. He wagered no one realized just _how_ taxing it had been.

Rubbing absently at his forehead, he turned and began back towards the castle. "I'll be in the training hall. You can give me the meeting minutes when you're done."

Shiro decided not to fight it. He watched as the man left, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His mate was mad, that much was abundantly clear, but Keith did not want to let on. Hiding his emotions was a habit of Keith's, but all of the recent trauma had cracked his mask. Emotions were slipping through and he knew Keith hated that fact. 

It was fine, Shiro told himself as he returned to the meeting room. Pidge glanced at him in concern, but he ignored the look. Keith was avoiding stressors. That was a good thing. As much as the coalition needed Keith's battle expertise, _he_ needed Keith to be whole and safe. That was the most important thing. He would never sacrifice his mate's sanity, even for the war.

=====

With the day done, his time spent beating training bots and punching bags into a pulp, Keith had nothing left to do but retire. He was not so naive as to think that business was keeping Shiro from him; Shiro was maintaining distance. Whether that was a sign of the man's displeasure at his antics or quiet acceptance, he was not yet certain. They could discuss it later. He knew Shiro would be waiting for him when he returned to their room. 

As expected, he found the man sitting on their bed, face pinched, a tablet in hand. When he entered, Shiro looked up, concerned.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine." Keith cut in before the question could be uttered. "You can brief me on the meeting later; I need to shower first."

The meeting or his absence did not seem to be Shiro's primary concern. As he was stepping into the spray of steaming water, Shiro slipped in behind him, wrapping sturdy arms around his waist and drawing him close.

He yelped, falling against the man. "Shiro!"

"You smell so good when you've just come from the training hall." the man murmured against his neck, nipping at his nape.

"Hmm. That turns you on, does it?"

"Always has. There was a reason I singled you out in the training hall at school."

Ah, the good old days, tumbling on the gymnasium mats, earning the scorn of their peers. There had always been an undercurrent of sexual excitement in their sparring. Shiro was not a subtle alpha. It had worked in their favor though; he was not a subtle omega either. No one would have been surprised to discover that they spent hours locked in Shiro's joke of an office, leaving puddles in the wake of their intensive lovemaking. 

Shiro's hand slipped across his belly, lower to the thatch of hair above his groin, petting him in interest. His hand stilled, awaiting an invitation. Sighing longingly, Keith opened his legs a bit more, just wide enough for his alpha to slip his hand down further and cup him in his large hand. He was putty in Shiro's hands, leaning back into the bulk of his mate's arms, whining and moaning until he was spent and had to be helped from the shower. It was much easier to accept his weakened state with Shiro growling happily in his ear, solemnly swearing to tend to every need he had. 

Ever the protective alpha, Shiro bundled him into his arms, running a soft towel over his skin reverently. They fell into bed soon after, curled together beneath the security of half a dozen blankets. It was stifling for Shiro, but he endured. He would endure anything to see the look of peace on his mate's face.

"I missed having you by my side today." he whispered, caressing his knuckles across Keith's pale cheek.

The man's eyelids fluttered as he struggled against sleep. "I'll be there next time. I promise."

Shiro kissed his nose. "You're the smartest soldier we have. We need you."

That was an overstatement, Keith thought tiredly, but he didn't argue, instead basking in the warmth of his alpha's praise. Kiss after kiss was pressed to his face and neck, Shiro rumbling his pleasure into his bare skin. There was no possibility of staying awake while such warmth was being laved upon him. And so he drifted off in the combined comfort of his warm nest and his alpha's appreciation, entirely at peace and content. 

=====

The call was sent out. It was time for the full coalition to assemble. It was a grand effort the likes of which Keith had never seen before. Even their prior assaults on Zarkon and Lotor had paled in comparison. The city was growing stuffed; each day more and more ships docked, carrying soldiers, supplies, and weaponry. Soon they began spilling into neighboring cities. 

He shied away from the noise, focusing instead on his training. When duty called, he obediently followed his alpha to work, sitting by his side in meetings, aiding in the strategy planning, placing himself to whatever task Shiro saw fit for him to perform. His workload was light in comparison to the others. Within days, they were a haggard looking crew; Hunk and Pidge had a look of sleeplessness about them that he suspected had everything to do with the amount of time it took to outfit ships with updated weaponry and defense. 

When he offered to assist, he was turned away with grateful smiles. 

"Save up your energy." Pidge advised, waggling a spanner at him teasingly. "You're one of the forerunners of the assault. You'll need to be on top of your game."

"I can still help."

Hunk popped up from behind the jet he was tinkering with. "You've done your part." he said cheerily, despite the dark rings around his eyes. "You had the most important part; you found Lotor."

Keith grimaced at the thought of the prince. For the past weeks he had been trying to forget the feel of the prince creeping around inside of his brain, forcing his way into the deepest, most secret parts of his mind. It was like being raped all over again, in a very different manner, but no less intrusive and traumatizing. Some times he could still feel Lotor crouching in the back of his mind, watching, taunting. It was all his imagination, he was sure, but he could never chase away the fears unless he was safely buried in Shiro's embrace. 

Ever the doting mate, Shiro wrapped him securely in his arms and held him tight whenever he needed reassurance. 

"You don't have to go through with this." he whispered against Keith's temple, rubbing soothing circles into his mate's back. "You've done more than enough. There's no need for you to push yourself beyond what you can handle. No one will judge you."

That was a lie, and Keith knew it. Every day he was judged for his inactivity or absence. That did not bother him. No, he would take part in the mission not because he felt obligated to the coalition. He needed to do it for himself. This was his battle to fight and he needed to see it through to the end.

Shiro stared at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "Then focus on gathering your strength. Don't worry about the meetings; I'll let you know which ones are important and you should attend."

"I'm not made of glass, Shiro." he said tartly.

"I didn't say you were, but we know that Lotor still has some sort of influence over you. You need to be well rested and at full strength when we face him, otherwise you could be compromised."

Fair enough. It was a valid fear and one he secretly shared. Maybe he was being supremely foolish, walking into the prince's den willingly. Their victory was not guaranteed; they did not know what would greet them. Lotor could retaliate with the full force of the empire and crush them. Then what? 

He would be taken back as a spoil of war. Keith grew quiet and still at the thought. There would be no escaping a second time. He would be Lotor's pet for the rest of his sad, miserable days. Their allies would be executed and Shiro would be---

"Shhh..." Lips pressed gently to his cheek. "What ever is wrong, please stop thinking of it."

Keith blinked rapidly. He hadn't realized that he had been crying. Stupid to be crying over a hypothetical situation, but he could not entirely dismiss the concerns. He was walking right into the hands of his tormentor. Any number of things could happen. He needed to be mentally prepared for the worst. God though, if Shiro did not need him there at his side, Keith was not sure he would have the strength to go willingly to Lotor.

He tucked himself into Shiro's chest, focusing on the steady, soothing rumble in the man's chest. 

=====

The following days were difficult for Keith. Not because there was a plethora of final preparations to be made, not because his senses were overloaded by the sheer number of people about, but because of his idleness. By Knair's command, he was to stay aloof from as many of the war preparations as possible. As promised, Shiro told him of the important meetings where his presence was required, but he did little more than sit quietly as his mate dictated the movements to be made. When his opinion was asked, he had little to give. Shiro knew his mind well enough to anticipate his thoughts and account for them. It was warming and irritating all at once.

"Try not to think of it." Coran advised, pushing a mug of steaming tea into his hands as they stood together on an overlook, watching the docking ships.

Easier said than done, Keith thought darkly, staring at the red tea. He had not indulged in the calm-inducing beverage in some time. He had not needed too. He slept well enough now, the worst of his pains had subsided, and he now had his alpha to help chase away his fears.He did not need drugs to survive his day to day life any longer.

One mug couldn't hurt though. Knair was nagging him to reserve his strength for the coming attack. He was doing better, he was certain of it. Come the day of the assault, he would be in near-perfect condition. He had finally accepted that he had peaked and would never again enjoy the same level of strength and skill, but the fact that he had survived was enough to ease the blow. Lotor had tried to kill him in the most insidious of ways and he had, somehow, refused to be beaten. 

Well, he hadn't been entirely beaten, Keith amended his thought. His confidence had taken enough of a beating that his credibility was now questioned from one end of the universe to the other. Even his own mate thought it best he sit on the sidelines. With the Baltroans descending upon them, Keith didn't feel too bad, although it would have been nice to be standing at the hangar door, waving them in. He could already imagine Shiro's chastising expression at that. 

"You look happy." Coran commented, smiling warmly at him.

Happy. Was that what he felt, Keith wondered. After some quick contemplation, he came to the conclusion that, yes, he was in fact happy--unbelievable as that was.

"I suppose I don't have anything to be unhappy about. I have my mate back. We're all a functioning pack again. Lotor is out of my head--for the most part."

The only thing that could make him happier was winning the battle. Fifteen some years of his life had been wrapped up in the war. They were all ready for it to be over. 

"Shiro and I were discussing staying on Olkari once everything is over."

"Oh?" Coran was not surprised. He had seen the two black paladins pulling away for some time and he honestly could not be happier. Some people were destined for greatness, others for tragedy, others for peace. There was no doubt in his mind that both Shiro and Keith had been destined to shoulder more than their fair share of burdens, but he rather thought they were destined for a happy ending as well.

Keith sipped his tea lightly, eyes distant, mind a million miles away. The end was quickly approaching yet he felt very little apprehension. He knew that he ought to, given how long they had been fighting the battle, but logic swayed him from prematurely celebrating. Even if they won, even if all their wildest dreams came to fruition and Lotor was defeated, his army crushed, the empire fallen, it would still not be over. The universe would be in shambles, near collapsing. The worst of the fighting would be over, but the political upheaval would just be beginning.

At least his part in the game would be mostly over. He was not political minded, Keith recognized that well enough. He was a soldier through and through. Drop him on a battlefield and he thrived. Set him in a conference room with a dozen mild mannered, soft spoken diplomats and he would lose his ground embarrassingly quickly. 

No, politics was where Shiro excelled. They were the perfect pair. That very moment, he knew his diplomatic mate was entertaining talks with the coalition members, combing through their battle plans for any weak spots and drilling military formations into everyone's heads. There was no room for error, Shiro had said sternly in their last meeting. Everyone had to know their part and play it. 

Ever the practical alpha. Shiro was playing the role he was born to play. For his part though, Keith felt ready to turn from the field and find a nice place to settle, so long as his mate was by his side. Another few days, he thought with a small shudder. Five more days and he would either be dead or searching out a quiet spot to roost. Preferably, it would be the latter.

=====

The day of reckoning was upon them before they could fully comprehend it. One minutes they were marching through tedious flight patterns, the next they were retiring early in perpetration of their great day. There would be no sleeping that night, both Shiro and Keith were sure. Rather than fret overly much about how tired they would be come the morning, they curled close, fingers threaded together, listening to the low, content whines of the other. 

"Are you afraid?" Keith surprised himself by asking.

Shiro hesitated a moment to answer. "A little." he whispered honestly. "Not so much for myself, but for what could happen. We have no idea what's waiting for us. Lotor could have his entire fleet at the ready and we'd be none the wiser."

Such a noble man. No fear for himself, only others. Keith sometimes wished Shiro had the good sense to worry for himself. He chose not to dwell on the latter part of his mate's concern. What would happen, would happen. They would have to maneuver around whatever Lotor threw at them. They had been doing so for years. This time, they had to pray they had the skill and numbers to win the fray.

He pressed a kiss to Shiro's bare chest, keening loudly for attention. The man looked at him worriedly.

"Mark me, Takashi."

Surprise colored Shiro's expression a moment, brows leaping upward. "O-oh. Now?" 

How could he have forgotten? He had wanted to get rid of that horrid mark on Keith's shoulder for ages. With great effort, he had accepted that Keith needed to keep the mark until he had sussed out the prince's location. Keith had done so. It was no longer needed. 

Keith moved slowly, ensuring he had his alpha's approval, shifting up the man's chest and settling his chin into the crook of his mate's shoulder, offering his neck. Lotor's mark sat annoyingly proud on Keith's pale flesh. A rumble of displeasure built in Shiro's chest, but he fought it down. There was no place for anger and resentment in their nest. He chose love instead. 

Pressing kiss after kiss to the spot, he ran his hand down Keith's spine, settling above the swell of his backside. Another kiss and he locked his arm securely around his mate, pinning him to prevent squirming. It would hurt, Shiro knew. It would hurt more than any other marking. He was not simply laying claim to his mate, he was removing a usurper's claim, laying his own over the spot and eradicating all memory and presence of the monster.

Pain meant nothing to Keith. He melted against Shiro's chest, sighing as the man's teeth grazed his skin. When teeth sank into the tender flesh of his nape, he opened his mouth wide and moaned, digging his blunt nails into Shiro's side. The man grunted around the flesh in his mouth, biting down harder. 

It wasn't enough, Keith thought. He could still feel Lotor's presence dancing around the periphery of his mind. 

"Harder." he commanded

Shiro growled, applying more pressure.

It still was not enough.

" _Harder._ "

He was going to tear Keith's muscle apart, Shiro feared. He had bitten too deep; there was too much blood in his mouth, it was pouring down his chin and dripping onto the bed. Still, Keith mewled and encouraged him. His mate was orgasmic from the intensity of their bond. Every few moments, Keith would shudder and rut against his belly, moaning wantonly before growing still and shivering beneath Shiro's bite.

For good measure, Shiro kept his teeth anchored into his mate's gland for nearly thirty minutes, ensuring that his mark would take hold. It would be equally as ugly as Lotor's prior mark, leaving Keith's skin red and ragged, but it would be beautiful to them. 

His jaw began aching minutes in, but Shiro hung on. When he felt certain he had laid his claim well and strong, he carefully pulled his teeth free, elliciting a moan of protest from his mate. A cloud of euphoria hung over them, intoxicating in its strength, and they drowsed together, clinging and pawing at one another. 

The moon hung low in the sky when sense returned to Shiro. He hadn't slept, he did not think, but he felt well rested, as if he had slept for days. For a few moments he lay still, gazing out the window at the navy sky and warm yellow moon. So peaceful. It was difficult to believe that the dawn of their attack would so quickly be upon them.

"Make love to me."

Fingertips pressed to his cheek, gently but persistently, demanding attention. 

Shiro hummed. "I thought you were sleeping."

Keith smiled up at him. "I was. Now I'm awake and I want my alpha." He laid a hand to the bloody mark on his neck. "My only alpha." 

_His only alpha_. A pleased purr built in his chest and Shiro did not bother to hide it. And why not? It was the day of reckoning. He could not go into battle in good conscious, knowing he had not satisfied his mate. In full honesty, he needed to feel Keith in his arms at least one more time. He needed to be with him. If one of them failed to make it back from the attack...

Keith molded against him, ever willing, guiding his hands to the most sensitive parts of his body. His heat had not started yet--thankfully; Shiro did not want to think about the dangers that could have been, had Keith gone to battle in such a state--but Keith was wet regardless, passage open and welcoming him. 

They fit together perfectly, as always, moving together in fluid motions. Keith's thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. The slap of skin on skin rung in the air, barely audible over their harsh panting and the cries of pleasure neither of them attempted to stifle. Keith mewled in demand, turning his head to bare the column of his neck in a display of submission. As if Shiro needed further motivation. 

When he knotted, Keith cried and pulled him close, begging for him to never let go.

"Never." Shiro promised.

He meant it. He held close all through the night, savoring his mate's supple flesh, happily drowning in Keith's content whines. When Keith knelt in full submission as the first rays of dawn broke the skyline, he pulled the man close once more. Hours later, when the siren rang through the city, heralding the beginning of the end, he pulled Keith to his chest, still buried within the man, and kissed his nape. Keith groaned, clenching around his shrunken knot.

"I'll never let go." Shiro whispered, squeezing the man around the middle. "Never."

=====

It should have been a joyous day, Shiro thought. There should have been cheering and jovial shouts, laughter and tears of joy. Instead, they were all a somber. The first of the flight crews had departed, needing a lead due to their bulky ships and heavy cargo. They were not nearly as nimble as the lions of Voltron or the smaller, fleeter battleships. 

It was the first time in many years, as Shiro's memory served him, that they were silent as they pulled their paladin armor on. Even they, the infamous paladins of Voltron, seasoned warriors, were touched by the realization that the coming battle could well mean the end of Voltron as they knew it. The empire could fall. Or their rebellion would be crushed. He tried not to dwell overly much on which scenario seemed most likely.

Keith pressed close suddenly, taking his arm and holding it to his chest. 

"Ready?" Shiro forced a wary smile.

Keith stared at him, frowning. 

"Come on, baby. I need you to be all in."

"I am." 

Keith sighed. He _was_. He wanted this victory more than anyone, but something felt off. Perhaps it was himself. He held secret doubts as to his own abilities. It had been some time since he had been in Red's cockpit; it had been even longer since he had formed Voltron with the team. One weak link and the entire rebellion could be brought down. He did not want to be that weak link.

Allura called for their attention, standing proudly in her pink armor. "Are you ready, paladins?"

Her sturdy expression wavered at their weak hail of confirmation. "I will remain in the castle and supply backup fire as needed. Inform me immediately if you believe a wormhole may be needed. I will need time to create the portal."

"With luck," Shiro offered, "we won't need a wormhole for a quick escape."

Lance sighed dramatically. "Can we just go and beat Lotor's ass already? Gris and I have a hot date scheduled for later and I want to be back in time to shower."

"You really think a shower will fix all your problems?" Pidge asked, pulling her helmet on with a grin.

"You're just jealous, gremlin."

Just like old times, Shiro laughed, trailing after Keith as the man headed for the hangars. It was reassuring to know that they were still a single functioning unit, able to depend on one another. It should have given him hope, but he was dismayed by how quiet his mate was. Keith kept his eyes to the ground, frowning at nothing and everything, slipping into Red's hangar without a word, as if he was unaware that he were being followed. 

That could not be allowed. He at least needed a goodbye kiss before the battle. 

"Baby, I--"

He paused. Keith stood in the center of the room, staring up at the massive lion. He knew from personal experience that some silent, deep felt conversation was taking place between pilot and lion. Was Keith frightened of rejection? Red was temperamental, but she had always favored Keith above any other pilot. She would never shut him out. 

A strangled groan slipped past Keith's lips as he raised his hand towards the lion's great snout. "Please..."

There was a heavy pause. The lion remained mute. Keith's hand began to tremble; he hung his head in shame.

The room shook suddenly, the echoes of Red's ferocious roar vibrating through their bones. The great beast shifted onto her haunches, lowering her head and opening her maw, allowing entrance. 

A startled breath burst from Keith's lungs and he laughed manically. He knew that Shiro was there with him, standing guard at his back and watching, but he did not care. He was immeasurably proud of himself. He was still a paladin. Even when the man approached, he could not wipe the smile from his face. 

Shiro skimmed a hand across his back, pulling him close. Words were not needed, he decided, instead pressing a kiss to his mate's forehead. Keith keened softly, leaning into his arms and nuzzling insistently beneath his chin. 

"Be safe, baby."

"I will."

The castle shook as the first of the lions took flight. That was their sign. 

Shiro pulled away reluctantly, stealing one more kiss. "I'll see you here when we get back."

"No, dear; I'll see you on the field."

=====

Diabazal. It looked exactly as Shiro remembered it from those many years ago; a hellish red, crater marked core, floating amidst its pock-marked remains. It still gave him chills, seeing the remnants of the once thriving galra home planet. It was not thriving now, but it was certainly active. Littered across the planet's surface were brightly lit bases, the fruit of Lotor's many years of secret labor. Certainly, they had not thought to check there of all places for their enemy's main base.

"What a dump." Lance's voice crackled over the communication line.

They could hear the sneer in Pidge's voice as she responded. "Dump or not, they managed to slip under our radar and now they have an entire fleet on defense!"

A fleet, Shiro saw, but not the military display he had been expecting. Had it only been them with a small contingent of coalition members it would have been a rough battle, but their forces were holding their own. Voltron was not even needed.

"I sense a trap."

Four windows flickered to life in his cockpit, the wary faces of his crew staring back at him.

"We know it's a trap." Keith said evenly. "How do you want to proceed?"

They had to move forward, there was no question about that. They had spent months planning this assault. They had toted this as the possible end to the galra empire, the end to tyranny itself. Going back was not an option.

Shiro frowned, looking at his mate. "Do you think Lotor is in there?"

Keith's face contorted into a dark scowl. "He is. He's waiting for us."

"This is a diversion." Hunk supplied sourly. 

"If he wants to throw his drones at us, let him. The coalition can handle his piss poor minions." Keith growled. "Destroy every part of this planet. We need to focus on what's really important. If Lotor wants to go head to head with us, he can. Shiro, I'm ready. Let's go!"

Just like his mate, Shiro thought with a grin. "That's what I like to hear. Guys?"

Pidge thumped her controls enthusiastically. "Let's kick his ass!"

"Agreed!" Lance cheered. "This guy is a piece of shit."

"Let's wipe the floor with him!" Hunk jeered in uncharacteristic malice.

This was for more than the universe, Shiro thought, thrusting them into movement. This was about more than tyranny, death, and destruction. The end to all of Lotor's scheming and his empire of evil was the goal, naturally, but he sensed that beneath his teammate's steely demeanor there was something else licking at their feet, spurring them to action. This was not just for the countless trillions of people enslaved by the universe. It was not just for those they had lost and those they were fighting to protect. His eyes flicked towards the window where he could see the Red Lion. This was personal for all of them. There was hell to pay and they would deliver said hell at Lotor's feet.

=====

"We have to stay together." Shiro commanded as they descended into the base. He would not make the same mistake he had made the last time he faced Lotor. The prince had proven that he was capable of taking them on, one on one; they would need their full strength as a group to confront him. 

He stepped closer to Keith, his protective instincts rearing. Suddenly he held doubt about bringing his mate with them. Was Keith truly ready to face his rapist? He knew from dealing with his own personal traumas that panic reared its ugly head at the most inconvenient of times. If Keith locked up mid battle...

"Keith."

The man looked at him, brows drawn.

"Do you still feel Lotor? Do you sense him?"

His sad expression was answer enough. Biting over Lotor's mark, though it dulled the connection significantly, did not erase the bond. Somewhere, deep down, Keith would always be connected to Lotor. The bond would only die with one of them. 

All the more reason to kill Lotor that day. Until he could wrap his hands around the prince's neck and throttle the life out of him though, Keith would use the connection the prince had forced upon him. Lotor's own evilness would be his undoing.

"That way." Keith said, pointing down a dim hallway. 

With a jerking of his arm, Shiro led the way, mindful to keep his bayard at the ready and his arm activated. When Keith strayed too far from his side, just out of his reach, he called the man back. No few dark looks were sent his way, but they both understood that it was for the best. They had no clue what type of trap they were walking into, but they had to expect the worst.

But the hallways were quiet. The only sound penetrating the silence were the booms of canons outside as the coalition dealt with the minimal threat of Lotor's fleet. 

Hunk began whining uncomfortably. "Something isn't right."

"He knows we're here." Keith blurted, much to the dismay of the others.

Lance turned suddenly, pistol dropping. "What exactly is his aim here, Keith? This was supposed to be a surprise attack. So far, everything we've done has been expected! We're walking into a trap!"

Keith huffed, looking to his mate for support.

"We always have to assume Lotor knows what we're up to." Shiro said reasonably. "Between the bond he forced with Keith and the spies he has, he should know our movements. What he doesn't know and can't anticipate is the full force of the coalition."

His words did not reassure them. They continued on warily, jumping at the least of sounds. They were being watched, or so they suspected. If Lotor knew they were present, as Keith suggested, then he would be monitoring their movements. Every turn could present a trap, every dark corner could be hiding an enemy.

And yet they progressed on, unhindered. Lotor wanted to see them, Shiro thought. He wanted the glory of trouncing the paladins all for himself. Or he had some other end in mind, which Shiro chose not to ponder. With Keith's unerring sense guiding them, they made it to the ship bridge, whole and unscathed. 

"No attacks?" Pidge asked as she worked at the lock. "There's no question now; this is definitely a trap."

"Then keep your guards up." Shiro snapped; he did not need to be reminded of their precarious situation. 

The lock clicked, lines of violet light racing towards the center seal before sliding open. Hunk and Lance raised their guns, pushing to the front of the group, eyes sharp and scanning for enemies between the inch gap in the door. Pidge's shield glimmered around them, reflecting the unusually bright light of the bridge. 

Shiro took a hesitant step forward. 

"Paladins."

Their weapons swung forward. Shiro growled, bionic arm flaring angrily. A soft mewl slipped past Keith's lips as he took a step closer to his mate. Panic was beginning to flare, but he forced it back down, commanding his breathing into a strict pattern. 

At the helm of the bridge stood Prince Lotor, hands tucked delicately behind his back, an expectant, almost pleasant grin upon his face. His narrow eyes found Keith, tucked against his mate's side.

"Little mate."

Shiro snarled, stepping in front of the man.

Lotor's grin did not falter. "False alpha. I was so hoping I would have the privileged of seeing you once more."

Words frothed at the forefront of Shiro's mouth, but all that came out was a low, warning growl. No threat he could ever make would truly convey the malice he felt for the prince. Words could never do justice to the dark images of revenge playing in his mind. 

" _I am going to kill you_."

Lotor laughed, high and amused. "Kill me? That will be quite an impressive feat."

His hand glowed white hot once more. "I will do it."

"You have to get to me first."

That was a challenge if ever Shiro heard one. His pride refused to allow him to back down. If this monster wanted a fight, they would give him one. They shifted collectively, weapons at the ready. Bloody visions sprang to life behind Shiro's mind, all of his dark day dreaming vying for dominance. He would have his revenge. He would avenge his stolen years and his mate's honor. He would make the prince suffer for every cruel indignity he had forced upon Keith. with his alpha rage to guide him, there was nothing to stop Shiro from tearing the prince's throat out with his teeth.

Or so he had believed, until Lotor extended his hands towards the group, mouth quirking in a sly grin before he commanded,

" _Come here, little mate._

Keith's gleaming blade clattered to the ground as he stepped forward, a panicked whine escaping his throat as his body locked, moving of its own accord. He could command nothing, he could not even turn his head to look beseechingly at his mate while Lotor beckoned. They had lost, his thoughts screamed. He was walking to his doom.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years of his life had been spent--wasted--in constant battle against a crazed prince with a pathological drive to subdue the entirety of the universe. Shiro should have known it would come to an end like this. Very rarely did tales of war end happily, wrapped up with a neat little bow. His story would always end up a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! Some 100k+ words later and we are finally at the end! Some of you have been here since the start, some of you have just joined us, but I am so happy and thankful that you've taken this ride with me! I know it hasn't always been an easy ride for readers, but we hunkered through it!
> 
> All of the sweet comments, tweets, and art that you guys have left has really made this a great experience for me. This fic has a special place in my heart and I hope it does in yours as well. I hope that you'll leave some nice comments on this, our final chapter. I love reading everything you guys have to say!
> 
> I'll still be around, sheith-ing things up, so be sure to check out my tumblr (@kittypox) and keep an eye on my ko-fi page (ko-fi.com/kittypox), which will let you know all about the projects I'm working on.
> 
> And so, without further ado, I present...the final Alpha Hunter chapter.

They would need to part ways soon, before the sun was up and the more seasoned officers roused and began rounds. It would not be impossible to sneak Keith out of the dorm after five AM, but it would certainly be tricky. Best to just avoid the hassle and get the cadet out before then. They still had another hour to safely lay together before he had to hustle Keith out the back door. Parting would be near impossible that morning, it being the last time they were together for two years, but Shiro knew that he had to be strong. If Keith was caught in his room, when he came back from Kerberos he would have no job and no mate. He decided not to dwell on what the consequences could be for a cadet caught in fraternization with an officer. 

"Keith?" he whispered into the young man's nape, burning the feel of silky hair on his lips into his memory.

The body in his arms shifted slightly, a pair of tired eyes gleaming in the darkness, peering at him questioningly. 

Shiro smiled, his heart swelling. His entire universe was laying in his arms and he never wished to let go. Necessity demanded it though. "You'll have to go soon."

A tired groan answered him. Keith's eyes drifted shut once more. For another few minutes, they allowed the world to pass them by, wrapped tightly together, refusing to be moved by God himself. For a few minutes they could pretend. For a few more minutes they could be the heroes of some unrealistic, sappy romance novel, bound only too one another and never to be parted. For a few minutes more they could live as the happy couple they were and not hide their love. For a few minutes more...it could be enough.

As soon as they began moving, shifting from beneath the covers and searching out their clothing, reality crashed in. Heavy silence hung between them, crippling weight sitting painfully in their chests as they meticulously avoided the other's gaze. He was still on earth, still had his feet firmly on the ground and surrounded by his human kin, but Shiro felt a disturbing sensation of being absent. Every thing he saw and felt, he fervently locked in his memory, knowing that when he returned everything would be different. The very sands around them would have changed. Two years away from earth, two years from his mate, two years from his home... Were he a weaker man, he might have succumbed to sentimental tears. 

If he had allowed it, Shiro thought that Keith would slip away without a word, returning to his dorm to mourn his loss in solitude until school demanded his attention. He knew the cadet was suffering, but Keith would never admit to it, much less allow others to see him in such a state. He hated the idea of leaving Keith like so.

"Keith." He took the boy's hand. 

Keith blinked at him, mouth pressed into a firm line.

"Keith, I swear I will be back."

The boy pulled his hand free, whining unhappily. "I would hope so..."

Misfire. His attempt to sooth had only reaffirmed Keith's unfounded fears of his mate disappearing in space. _Try again..._

"I'm your mate." Shiro said firmly, taking his hand back. "No matter what anyone says or does, I am yours and you are mine. We are mates."

"Right." Keith attempted to sound upbeat, but his voice was flat. On the cusp of losing his lover, mere hours before the launch, there was no way for him to hide his doubt. He was a mate without a mating bite, without a ring, without any ceremony. No one would believe him when he told all the world who he belonged to. All he would have to support his claim was a few months of Shiro's affection and some rumors of their midnight activities. There was no way to prove his claim on the alpha or Shiro's claim on him. 

He frowned, fingers limp in Shiro's grasp. It was too much to ask, he supposed. They were both young and who knew what would be on Shiro's mind when he returned from Kerberos. The mission might ignite a passion in the alpha and life on earth would seem too mundane for Shiro's tastes. That would surely be the case, Keith thought; or Shiro would become too famous for the likes of him. Shiro was destined for great things. Who was he to hold the young man back?

He tried to pull free, only to have Shiro's fingers clamp down around his wrist.

"Keith, what is it?"

He hesitated a moment before answering quietly, "I'm--not your mate."

Shiro recoiled, as if he had been struck. "What do you--you are!" At Keith's gentle shake of the head, he scrambled for understanding. "Do you want a ring, is that it? A ceremony? I can do something! I can--"

_Oh, no_ , Keith moaned internally; this was going all wrong. "It's not that, Shiro! I just--I have nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I can't prove--nothing for me to see--"

Shiro's face fell. He understood. They were bound by word and word alone. Although he knew that they would love and honor one another as if they had gone through all the proper motions, it would mean nothing to anyone else. 

_Does that mean Kogane is free game?_

A snarl broke onto Shiro's lips, thinking of the audacious classmate who had dared to ask him such a question. Just because he would be gone did not mean his memory would be wiped from existence. He would be present in Keith's mind, their mating thriving with his mate's devotion. 

But memory and word bonds did nothing to deter amorous alphas from lonely omegas. Within days of the announcement that he would be leaving for Kerberos, Shiro had heard a handful of whispers from his fellow alphas about who would get Keith next. He had seethed indignantly, hearing such things; as if Keith was a prize of some sort to be passed around, the omega's desires not even worth a thought.

Shiro ran his finger across the column of Keith's neck, rubbing gently against his scent gland. Keith shuddered, tilting his head and exposing more of his flesh. A perfect omega. _His_ perfect omega.

"Let me mark you, Keith. Then no one can question our bond."

The boy's eyes lit up. "Mark me? Do you mean it?"

"Of course." He prodded Keith's gland playfully, earning a keen and further display of submission. 

Shiro could not deny his mate--or himself--a last moment of intimacy by bonding. Time was forgotten, their sense of urgency momentarily vanishing. For whatever reason, Keith shed his clothing once more and, thinking how right it felt being skin on skin, Shiro did the same. With Keith again in his arms, bodies flush and sticking together with sweat, Shiro did not think he could ever let go. Keith's hair tickled the side of his jaw as the cadet leaned in to scent him, hands running up and down his body, as if burning every inch of muscle into his memory. 

A soft mewl escaped Keith as Shiro shifted, pressing the omega into the blankets and laying his full weight against him. Keith accepted him happily, curling small hands against his back, keening encouragingly. Every kiss, every lick, every soft, suckling mark Shiro left was wanted. A cloud of euphoria hung over his head, spurring his libido; his mate wanted him, his sweet little omega mewled and cried for his touch alone. He wasted minutes worshiping the boy's lithe form, drinking in every passionate moan and wanton whimper. Two years away from such heaven would be a living hell and Shiro was determined that, once returned, he would never be without his mate again. 

When the time came, Shiro hesitated to lay his mark. More than anything he wished for Keith to wear his mark, to have his claim clearly visible on the cadet's pale, soft flesh. Sentimentality stalled him a moment; he did not want to hurt his mate. Marking was an intimate, but painful act. Selfish as he was, he did not want his lover's last memory of him to be one of pain.

"Shiro?" Keith called weakly, writhing impatiently. 

He smiled down at the boy. "Sorry, I just--it will hurt."

Keith blinked up at him. "Of course it will."

That was that then; pain was of no issue. Upon later reflection, Shiro thought that there were many ways to go about marking one another that didn't involve maneuvering around limbs and holding awkward stances while their claims settled, but for all their juvenile fumbling, they had properly mated. Keith cried out as teeth sank into his gland, curling around the alpha as he sought comfort. When it was Shiro's turn, Keith eagerly bit into the thick gland at his neck, drawing a hiss of pain. 

Minutes later, Shiro had the boy beneath him, bent in a display of proper submission as he forced his knot into the young omega. Nature demanded that they complete the act and even a looming shuttle launch would not deter Shiro from properly claiming his omega. _Don't swell_ , sense screamed. There was not enough time for him to knot and then secret Keith away without being spotted.

He did not listen. 

"Shiro! Alpha!" Keith cried, curling his fists into the rumpled bed sheets. 

His mother would come and collect the sheets later, Shiro's mind provided helpfully. When she did, she would smell their coupling. She would know that he had mated...but she would not know with whom. 

It didn't matter.

"That's it, babe; take your alpha's knot. You're so good, such a good mate."

When he reflected upon it much later as he gazed out a port window at the humbling view of the earth, Shiro was disappointed in himself. He should have laid his mark sooner; they should have properly mated and coupled long before that day. There had been no question that they were meant to be mates. They had simply decided to take their time courting and getting to know one another, rather than simply give in to biological draws--and then Kerberos had fallen into his lap. Shiro kicked himself for the delay. Instead of a fond memory of what was meant to be a once in a lifetime event, he had rushed them and likely spoiled the moment for his mate. 

Their later parting had been awkward, even after bonding. Keith said little as they crept down the fire stairwell, keeping an eye out for mulling officers. When they made it to the door undetected, Keith had tried to dart off, on the verge of tears. Shiro caught him by the arm and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I love you so much, Keith. I do. I'll be back for you, I swear."

Keith hiccuped, rubbing his cheek against the alpha's chest. "Shiro..."

"I promise, baby. I promise. I'll always come back for you."

"I know."

"I'll always be here for you. I will always love and protect you. Always."

_Always..._

He had failed in the years following to protect his mate, but Shiro was determined to protect him then. Lotor's mocking laughter rang in their ears as he pinned Keith to the ground, arms wrapped so tightly around the man, he feared he might hurt his mate. Keith whimpered and jerked violently, torn between terror and the unrelenting call of an alpha. Lotor was the true false alpha here, Shiro seethed, snarling in the man's direction. This was a cruel torture the likes of which no one deserved to endure. 

Keith moaned, turning his tear streaked face into his mate's shoulder. His head was splitting, torn between the commands of mate and assailant. One second he was surging to his feet to follow Lotor's call, the next he was cowering in Shiro's embrace.

"It's okay, baby; I'm here. _Stay still_."

Keith whined, low and mournful, limbs twitching traitorously. He wanted to obey Shiro; more than anything he wished to obey his alpha's command, but he had failed his mate. Lotor was still in his head; he had failed to drive the demon out. He had placed them all in danger. While he groveled on his knees, begging some deity for mercy, the rest of the paladins had scattered, forming a protective ring around them, covering them from a hail of distracting drone fire.

"You failed." Lotor voiced every damning thought crashing through his head. "Did you really think you could break our bond by the strength of your weak will alone? Pathetic."

He was as stupid as Lotor claimed he was, Keith berated himself. He was a great fool to have insisted on coming with the rest of the paladins. He had hoped that Shiro biting over the mark would break the power the prince had over him. Stupid. Hope was nothing more than unfounded, unrealistic, dreams. His dreams had cost them the battle. 

" _Come to me_."

The command boiled in Keith's blood like fire, setting his nerves aflame and burning him every second he was forced to delay. Shiro's weight was crushing, pressing him to the floor with all the man's might. 

"Keith, _stay_!"

" _Get up and get over here. Now_!"

This was going to kill him, Keith thought with dawning clarity. Between his panicked gasping and fearful sobbing, he was able to sense his heart rate rising until his heart was thudding painfully in his chest, blood roaring in his ears so loudly he could no longer hear the rest of the paladins in their fray. His heart was going to burst. Already he could feel the frantic ticks of cutting pain, surely signifying that his heart was splitting from the mass amount of blood pumping through it. 

Torn apart by the universe's two strongest alphas. Maybe he should feel honored, a twisted part of him whispered. Omegas were caught in the crossfire between amorous alphas all the time. He could put a romantic twist to the Tale of Voltron. His love for Shiro would be told alongside tales of Voltron's battles and the liberation of the universe...and stories of how his mind had been horribly mangled between warring alphas. 

It was worse than being torn limb from limb between the two, Keith thought with a pained groan. He would go insane soon--if his heart didn't give out first. He could not handle Lotor's voice inside of his head, urging him to action, much more Lotor fighting against Shiro in a battle for command of his will. 

_Dear god, please just let me die!_

Death would be a gift. Anything would be better than having his mind trampled by snarling alphas.

" _Keith, STAY!!_ "

Shiro's voice stabbed his brain like a lance, demanding obedience. As soon as his muscles seized and tightened into painful stillness, Lotor's voice was back, luring him with a deceptively sweet call. There was no dislodging Shiro's bulk--thank god--but still he struggled against the man, wriggling indignantly as he moved to obey the prince's summon. 

The battle was lost, Shiro could see that plainly. There was no option left to them, but to retreat. Facing Lotor head on would mean abandoning Keith to whatever devious plans the prince had for the weakened omega while he was distracted. Staying and pushing the other alpha's voice from his mate's head meant leaving the rest of the pack in danger. Without his aid, the others were losing ground quickly. 

"What's the matter, false alpha?" Lotor asked pleasantly, daring a step closer. "Was this not what you were expecting? I thought you had been looking for me."

Shiro roared, digging his nails into Keith's shoulder protectively. If there was a way to save their battle, he was failing to find it. 

"Shiro..." Keith sobbed, tucking his head beneath the man's chin. 

"Shhh, don't worry, baby. We're leaving. I'll keep you safe. I swear."

With Keith in the state he was, Shiro was not carrying his mate, he was hauling the man to his feet and dragging him, kicking and screaming, from the room. On his own, he could subdue Keith, but with an alpha forcing his will upon the man, Keith was a force to be reckoned with, twisting and writhing, nearly slipping from his grasp several times as the man attempted to follow Lotor's call.

Demanding that Keith stop was doing nothing to sway Lotor's control in his favor; if anything, it was causing Keith more pain. The more he pushed, the harder Lotor pulled and Keith's mind was trapped between. 

"Stop fucking with him!" Lance snapped from the corner, narrowly deflecting a blaster's projectile. "Get him the fuck out of here!"

Whether that directive was aimed at him or Lotor, Shiro was not sure, nor did he care. He would take the advice given. Another pull and Keith screamed, knees buckling. 

"We'll catch up!" Pidge called, fumbling a second later and landing heavily on her side.

"Pidge!" Instinctively, Shiro reached a hand to help her to her feet, only to be knocked back by a rogue shot from a blaster. For a long moment he lay still, stunned, chest burning as he struggled to get his breathing under control. He pressed a fist to his chest, thumping viciously, as if that might help dislodge the breath caught in his lungs. When his air passage cleared and he reached for his bayard, he froze.

His arms---his arms were empty. 

"Looking for this, false alpha?"

Shiro jerked his head upwards, staring in dismay at Lotor, who was now mere feet away. The prince's eyes gleamed deviously. One arm was slung around Keith's heaving chest, fingers curled at the man's throat, the other held his blade. There was a threat there and Shiro read it loud and clear. He lowered his bionic arm, the warning glow dying instantly. A sudden hush flooded the room as the rest of the paladins stood down, hands raised in surrender.

Lotor cocked a brow. "My, my, that was easy, wasn't it? One hit, and you stumble. One weak little bitch gets caught, and your entire rebellion is at its knees. Is he truly worth that much to you?"

The prince's fingers dug into the soft part of Keith's throat, drawing out a strangled gasp of pain. 

Shiro swallowed a growl. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want. The bitch is mine. He may be a barren bitch, but he is still a prize. I'm sure I can find ample use for him, perhaps in my bed chamber. I'm so grateful you brought him all the way here false alpha." Lotor laughed, leaning down towards Keith's hunched form and taking a deep inhale. His golden eyes trembled a moment, the sweet scent of omega flooding his senses. "I'm so grateful, I may even let you leave with your lives."

His words hung heavy over the lot of them, his breath a whisper across the sensitive skin of Keith's neck. So soft, deceptively gentle, like playing at lovers. Just like before. Just like that night when he had been called--

"No!" Keith jerked violently, surprising the prince enough that he managed to break free. 

His freedom was short lived. Before he could crawl an inch, Lotor's hand was curled in his hair, yanking him back into place. 

" _Kneel before your alpha_." Lotor snapped peevishly. 

Keith whimpered, kneeling obediently, hands clutching desperately at the claws digging into his scalp. His frantic gaze caught Shiro's and the alpha flinched. This could not happen, Shiro screamed internally. He refused to allow it, he would not sit idly while his mate was abused right before his own eyes. Gaining his knees, he drew his bayard.

"Don't. Touch. Him."

He expected Lotor's mocking laughter. The prince's eyes flicked between his face and Keith's crumbled form, fingers slipping to the man's nape and flexing against his flesh tauntingly. Fighting was futile; Keith slumped forward, moaning mournfully as his chin touched his chest.

"Shiro...just...go. Save yourself."

His role in Voltron had come to an end; Keith accepted that truth. Trading his life for his family's was an easy bargain. If his next part to play was as amusement and toy to Lotor...he supposed there were worse fates in the universe. There were ways to end his suffering; he was confident he could find one, even under intense supervision in Lotor's care. 

Nails dug cruelly into his shoulder, jerking him back into place.

"What is that?!" Lotor snarled, leaning down to rip the neck of his Blade uniform. 

Cold air touched Keith's neck and he gasped, muscles tightening as frigid fingers danced over the inflamed flesh of Shiro's new mark. He winced at a harsh prod, squeezing his eyes shut as the muscle twinged in protest. He felt Lotor's breath again, puffing heavily against him as the prince leered in un-suppressed rage. 

"Oh, I see." Lotor hissed. "You thought you could erase me and but your own filthy mark over mine."

Shiro swallowed thickly, watching in horror as the prince yanked Keith to his feet and forced the man's head to the side, baring his new mark. It was not just his claim on Keith, Shiro realized with a short breath; it was a snub to Lotor. He was taking back what Lotor had stolen, whether the prince liked it or not. From the look of deep insult on the man's face, Lotor did not like it. As any alpha male worth his salt, Lotor expected what he laid his claim on to remain his. 

_He was mine first and we bonded out of love_ , Shiro's alpha growled. 

Lotor's eyes snapped to his suddenly, as if sensing his alpha side's indignant thoughts. Shiro bared his teeth. His dare was marked. And met.

The first thing Shiro registered was Keith's scream of pain. The second thing he noted was the blood. So much blood. Too much blood; it gushed from Keith's shoulder, staining the front of his uniform as it flowed like a river down his body, pooling at his feet. Lotor was re-staking his claim; the realization struck him like a fist in the face and he lurched to his feet. 

"Stop!"

Lotor's eyes blazed in his direction, mouth scrunched around Keith's flesh, teeth buried so deep they were no longer visible. Suddenly Keith screamed again, body seizing in agony. It was the pain of a new mark, Shiro thought, a moment before blood erupted from his mate's shoulder and the man was thrown to the floor. Lotor stood above him, chin stained red. His jaw was set at an unusual angle and it was not until the prince spat a wad of tissue from his mouth that Shiro was able to comprehend what had happened.

Blackness played at the corners of Keith's visions as he groped absently at his neck where his scent gland had been. His fingers slid in the gush of blood streaming from the gaping wound, unable to stem the bleeding. Pathetic little mewls slipped past his lips. Was he trying to form words? Call for his mate who was rushing to his side? Keith was not sure. Thoughts were difficult to cobble together and any clarity he was able to clutch at was quickly overcome with one crushing realization:

_I'm going to die._

When Shiro grabbed him into his arms and turned him, the pain was all consuming; yet, strangely, he was unable to feel the worst of it. Shock is setting in, Keith thought, lashes fluttering. Soon he would pass out, his system would stutter from hemorrhaging so much blood, and then--

Shiro's fingers touched his face, the man barking words at him that he could not quite understand. Hold on? Stay? They were commands that he knew he could not obey, much as he wished. Shiro's fingers clamped over his own, sitting over the grievous wound. Although the man's hand was nearly twice the size of his own, even Shiro could not staunch the blood flow. 

Pidge's knees slammed to the ground beside his head and he was able to steal a glance at her pinched face. Her pale, tight expression was all the confirmation he needed of his previous assessment; he was dying. 

"We have to stop the blood." Pidge stuttered, ripping her side pack open and fishing for her medical kit.

Shiro nodded softly, staring in dismay as Keith's eyes began to cloud. "Hold on, baby. You have to hold on. You can't leave me, Keith. Not like this, baby."

Keith heard his name. Or he thought he did. Baby...always whispered so softly and so sweetly from his mate's lips. Never once had his alpha snapped at him or put him in his place. Disappointing Shiro now was the greatest failure of his life. 

_One more touch_. If he was going to die, he needed to feel his mate's warmth one last time. His fingers slid gracelessly against Shiro's stubble, smearing his blood over the man's cheek. His mate keened at him, eyes large and wet. He was not worth Shiro's tears; it killed him to cause the man such pain. 

One more touch and one more word. He had to let Shiro know how much their time together had meant to him. Even walking through hell as they had these past months, he had been overjoyed, knowing his mate was alive. 

"Regret--" he coughed, hacking a wad of bloodied phlegm onto his chin, "regret--nothing--"

He was slipping away. A rumble of fear vibrated in Pidge's chest as she packed the wound with staunching foam. Time was precious now. 

"We have to leave, Shiro. _Now_."

He nodded, slipping his arms beneath Keith's body. The man lolled against him like a limp doll. So small and so light...had Keith always been so slight? _Not important_ , the alpha snapped, and he stumbled to his feet. As he backed towards the door, watching as Lotor strode towards the exit at the opposite end of the room, unconcerned of any further assault, Shiro felt his heart clench. To give chase or to fall back? That bastard was so confident he had won... He could risk his life--and undoubtedly lose Keith's life in the process--and go after the prince, praying that his gamble paid and he scored the win. Or he could flee.

There was no real debate over which course of action he had to choose. The day was lost. It was time to retreat.

"Allura. Worm hole. NOW!"

=====

An emergency team of medics was waiting for them when the lions landed back at Olkari, the men and women flooding in and grabbing Keith from Shiro's arms and carrying him away. Knair's sharp gaze swung his way once and Shiro swallowed, wondering if he imagined the accusations in her eyes. 

He stumbled along in their wake, adrenaline rushing from his system and leaving him weak and light headed. Keith was safe, he chanted to himself. His mate was in the competent hands of the universe's best physicians. His alpha whined unhappily; his reassurances did nothing to sway his fear. Casting a look at himself, Shiro's confidence wavered. His once white armor was painted red, his bodysuit was damp from blood, and he knew that when he peeled it off later he would find his own flesh pink and bloodied. He forced the thoughts away, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of blood-damp clothing clinging to his flesh as he raced down the halls. 

Arriving at the medical bay, Ryvaina stopped him, gave him a cursory once over, and waved him in. His desperate pleas for answers went unanswered. It would be easier to venture inside and see for himself how his mate fared. 

Bodies moved to and fro frantically, doctors, nurses, and assistants flitting from one patient to the next in a frenzy to keep them all alive. Through the mass of people, Shiro spotted Knair slipping through another set of doors. Operating room, his mind supplied as he broke into a run once more.

When he burst through the set of doors, he was regarded with little more than an irritated glance and a stern dismissal. The medic team's attention was thoroughly invested in Keith, holding him still while others wielded tools and machines the likes of which Shiro had never seen before. 

"What is--"

Knair's hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him back a pace before she bodily hauled him outside. Shiro was still too shocked to be indignant about the manhandling. He needed to know that his mate would survive. 

"Stay out." she snapped.

"Keith--"

"Is fighting for his life and you being in there will only serve to distract. He has lost too much blood for us to worry about you at the moment."

He sucked in a breath, holding it in his lungs until it grew painful and exploded past his lips in a worried huff. "Will he be alright?"

Knair's mouth tightened. "His chances of recovery are promising. Do not interfere, alpha paladin. We must do our work and then move him to a healing chamber."

She turned on her heel without another word, disappearing into the frantic swirl of bodies in the next room. There was nothing for him to do then. Shiro curled his hands into fists, fighting back a tremor of rage. He had his orders; he needed to stay clear of the operating room. It was an order far more difficult to obey than if Knair had commanded him to march right into a black hole. 

Keith would be fine, he told himself as he retreated from into the hallway. His mate was in good hands. Knair would see the man safe. 

Someone cleared their throat.

Looking up, Shiro was only somewhat surprised to find the rest of the paladins coming down the hall, faces pale, expressions wary. 

"Is he--?" Hunk couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

Shiro shook his head weakly. "They're operating on him now. He lost a lot of blood, but Knair thinks he'll be fine. Once they've done what they can with the wound, they'll move Keith to a healing chamber."

There was a brief pause.

"Shiro." Allura sighed, hating having to play the role of diplomat. "What do you wish us to do, Shiro? This attack was your idea. You were the one to lead us. We will follow you still. What are your orders?"

Orders. Lead. Yes, he was leader, Shiro's mind supplied helpfully. Regardless of what had happened to Keith, no matter how tattered his personal affairs were growing, he had to be the leader. He was Black Paladin, head of Voltron. The entire coalition was looking to him for guidance.

He knew that, and yet he was worryingly numb to the idea of leading. It...didn't matter. Matters of Lotor and war paled in comparison to his mate's life. 

_Focus. The coalition needs you. It's what Keith would want._

"We have to retreat." he said softly, crushed beneath the weight of his failure. A collective groan of disappointment answered him, but Allura immediately moved to send word. 

Shiro's helmet had long since been lost, thrown against the Black Lion's wall in a fit of rage. He did not need it; even at a distance, he could hear through Allura's helmet the outraged cries of protest as they flooded her communication line. The battle was not yet lost, they claimed. Voltron was not needed to finished the battle. Shiro refused to allow it; either they finished this war as a single coalition or they did not fight. They had been caught off guard once by Lotor's traps. He was not risking the entire coalition. Live today and fight tomorrow. 

_Live...Live, baby._

=====

Twelve hours later and Keith was no longer in critical condition, though he had not yet woken. At Shiro's persistent nagging, Knair had allowed him into the healing chamber where his mate was. Wise woman, Shiro thought with a grim smile; she knew he would only loiter in the halls and make a general nuisance of himself. 

"Do not disturb him." Knair commanded, guiding him forward. "Rest is critical at the moment."

"Of course." As if he would risk Keith's health.

The room was large, much too large for a single charge, but Keith was no simple patient; he was a paladin of Voltron, a Blade of Marmora, former leader of the rebellion, and Shiro's beloved mate. His life was more valuable than all of the coalition put together. 

The lights had been dimmed, a comforting pale glow illuminating the walls just enough for a visitor to be able to guide their footing. Not knowing the depths of the man's slumber, Shiro was mindful to keep his steps even and quiet, easing into the chair at the end of the bed without so much as a squeak. Knair's reminder rang in his head like a bell, ringing dominantly over every other thought. Rest was vital. Rest was vital. Rest was--

"Oh, baby." Shiro sighed, placing his hand on the man's covered ankle. They had brought in Keith's favorite blankets to keep him warm; that was kind. Thoughtful. 

He looked up at his mate, splayed lifelessly on a thin, overly firm mattress, tubes and IVs of numerous chemicals and medications stuck in every part of his body. A hazy shimmer of gold hung over the bed like a gossamer curtain, gleaming particles of healing magic falling onto Keith's chest before vanishing.

There was color in Keith's cheeks, Shiro tried to cheer himself by noting that. His mate was breathing steadily, without the aid of machines. He was out of danger, Ryvaina had informed him earlier that morning. All Keith needed was time and rest to recover. He was going to be fine. Keith was alive.

Tears pricked at his eyes and Shiro cursed himself for the weakness. Tears would not help Keith; tears would not move the rebellion forward. Time was of the essence; every second he spent, sitting idly and being indecisive, was a second more that Lotor had on his side. He needed to focus and come up with a new plan. 

"I'm so lost, baby." he whispered, stroking his thumb over the jut of Keith's ankle bone. "I need you. You were always the voice of reason. You never get caught up in emotions like I do."

Silence answered.

Time to think for himself. His mate was safe; the rest of the universe needed to be tended to.

=====

Hunk elbowed Lance harshly in the side when the medbay door swished open. They all jerked to attention, staring at Shiro with wary, worried expressions. There was sadness on the man's face, but determination; it was not the expression of a man who had just lost the love of his life.

Pidge wrung her hands. "Is he--?"

"He's stable." Shiro said somberly. "I know Keith; he'd want us to focus on the mission and proceed without him. He's always been--selfless like that."

A darkly amused snort burst past Lance's lips. "He's tenacious, that's for sure. So you have a plan, leader?"

"I do." 

Precious time had been lost; Lotor's exact whereabouts were no longer known. Lord Maurvos' ambassador had many heated words for him regarding his failed assault, but Allura had tactfully stepped in before blood could be shed and reassured the man that the fight was far from over and would not end until the empire had fallen--which would be soon. All crews were on standby. A small contingency of rebel pilots had trailed Lotor to a neighboring galaxy before he had inexplicably vanished. While they continued their hunt, the rest of the coalition had a job to do. Having Lotor on the run granted them an opportunity.

"Allura, send out word to the squadron leaders; tomorrow we take flight. We're going back on the assault."

The princess nodded firmly. "I will see to it immediately."

The others exchanged intrigued glances.

"What exactly are we going on the assault for?" Hunk asked.

"We may not have caught Lotor," Shiro snarled, glaring at the floor, "but we've come too far to stop now. We are going to crush his empire, even if we have to raze it to the ground one base at a time."

=====

All of Olkari had been awake for hours, soldiers and pilots alike preparing themselves for the second wave of assault. The paladins had risen with the rest, donning their armor and standing at the forefront of the action, symbols of strength and hope. Today would be different, Princess Allura promised in a moving speech. They had already scored a victory by driving Lotor from the galaxy, she claimed, and that day they would ride that victory to the successful destruction of the Galra Empire.

As head of Voltron, Shiro maintained the facade of strong, unyielding leader. he stood solid as a rock at Allura's side, barking orders as needed. The charade was greedily swallowed. As soon as he was able, Shiro slipped from the flurry of activity. No one questioned him as he stalked the halls of the Olkari castle, though many questions lingered in their eyes. When he arrived at the medbay, he was greeted once more by Ryvaina, who nodded in respect and allowed him in.

Knair was somewhat less pleased to see him. 

"Do not distress him." she warned, stalling him with a hand on his chest.

Shiro suppressed a growl; he was in no mood to be deterred. "I won't. I'll be gone for several weeks though; he needs to know, or he'll worry. _That_ will distress him."

Her eyes narrowed, but she withdrew her hand and stepped aside. 

The lights inside Keith's chamber were dimmed again, casting garish shadows across the walls. He loathed the atmosphere of the medical wing, but Shiro knew that his mate hated it more. The sooner Keith was recovered and allowed back to their quarters in the castle, the better. Years of extended medical bay visits left them all with aversions to treatment chambers.

Stepping to the bed, Shiro nearly lost his nerve and turned back. Keith was asleep, eyelids fluttering now and again as he dreamed. Rest was what the man needed and he would be remiss to steal even a second of it from his mate. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to the man's forehead, thinking that he would leave a detailed letter instead. When he pulled back, he was greeted with tired, violet eyes.

"Baby." Shiro's heart leaped into his throat. "You're awake."

Keith blinked once, eyelids weighted, unable to find the energy to properly nod in affirmation. Shiro's hand strayed to the man's cheek. 

"I was so worried, baby." He paused, kicking himself mentally. That was not what Keith needed to hear; sharing his fears for the man's health would help no one. His parting words were intended to sooth, not make his mate paranoid.

"You're doing so well." he crooned. "Knair was telling me that you'll be able to leave the medical bay soon."

Keith's expression was flat; he was never one for being coddled, even after near-fatal attacks. Shiro smiled fondly, the worst of his apprehensions relieved. When he sat by the bedside and leaned in to kiss his mate's forehead, it was for his own needs, he told himself. Keith did not need his comfort, but he had to give it. If the soft keen of appreciation was anything to go by, Keith enjoyed the display all the same. 

"I'll be going away for a few weeks." he whispered between gentle kisses.

Keith's tired gaze flicked to his face warily.

"We have Lotor on the run. He won't be able to defend his bases." he said softly in explanation, stroking through the damp hair on Keith's forehead. "Matters as they are, any orders he sends out will be delayed; by the time his fleets arrive, we'll be gone. Even if they get to us in time, our sheer number will overwhelm them."

Keith's face was difficult to read, tired and wane as he was. The man's expression tightened slightly, but Shiro did not detect even a flicker of uncertainty or unhappiness. It had to be done, he was sure Keith realized. They had rallied their troops to end the galra empire. Initial failure aside, they had to continue on.

"I'll be leading the troops. We'll start with Diabazal and continue from there. Lotor has been clinging to his last quarter of the empire for years; not anymore."

There needed to be no discussion of the personal retribution he intended on seeking. Although he highly doubted that they would cross paths with the prince once more, Shiro intended on taking every available pleasure to be had in the destruction of the monster's empire. No stone would be left unturned; even the most minuscule of bases would be eradicated. With nothing left to help enforce his rule, Lotor would be left powerless, an outlaw in what was once his own kingdom.

A soft touch at his hand drew Shiro's focus and he leaned down to press his forehead to his mate's clammy fingers. 

"I will be back, I swear." 

Keith keened weakly.

"You don't have to worry; I have all of Voltron and the coalition watching out for me. If I even start to get ahead of them, I know Kolivan will drag me back." They both laughed softly. "I'm never going to disappear again."

Time was running out, but Shiro could not find it within himself to tear himself away. He loathed the idea of leaving Keith for so long when the man was recovering from a near-fatal wound. It had to be done; they both knew it. The days would be torture for them both, but he pressed his scent strongly into Keith's wrists, leaving his mate with what comfort he could offer. When Knair entered to inform him that the coalition was preparing to launch, Shiro felt a treacherous stinging in his eyes.

"I love you, baby." 

He pressed their foreheads together one final time, squeezing Keith's hands as tightly as he dared. A gentle nuzzle against his cheek brought a weak but calming wash of Keith's scent to his nose. A wish for good luck, Shiro thought. Backing out of the room step by aching step, he watched as his mate's eyes fell shut, face turning into the soft pillows. 

"We will take care of him." Knair said firmly, less a promise and more of a statement.

Shiro nodded, sullen. "I don't doubt it."

"When you return, he will be back on his feet. We will run complete scans and tests to ensure that he is at full health. These are for you."

Shiro blinked as the Blade handed him a small box. Flipping it open, he was only moderately surprised to find a pack of six syringes. Gift giving was not a habit of the Blade of Marmora, although he had not expected medicine.

"Maintain your serum dosage. Although a feral beast wreaking havoc on the prince's lands is no less than he deserves, I would much rather you remain sane. As would your mate."

"Thank you, Knair--for everything. Please take good care of him while I'm gone."

She nodded. "Good luck, alpha paladin."

Luck was not necessary, his alpha side thought confidently. He had his strength and the full force of the Voltron coalition on his side. It was Lotor who would need luck. If ever they caught up to the prince, he would show no mercy. Years of torment, torture, and watching his mate succumb to the prince's vile plots had hardened him. He was beyond the concept of mercy; the old Shiro was long dead. 

Oddly enough, Shiro thought as he climbed into Black's cockpit, he did not mind the death of his old ideals. Lotor wanted a war. He would bring the man one. 

=====

The ruins of Diabazal floated before them, dark, dead, and about to be destroyed. The faces of the rest of the paladins loomed before Shiro, eyeing him in quiet deference. At his back, the rest of the coalition sat in wait, breathlessly anticipating his orders.

The Black Lion reared back without warning, wings spreading like a valkyrie taking flight. Her wings glowed violently, gathering power. Without command, the rest of the paladins fell back to his flank, their faces flickering away as the communication screens disappeared.

Shiro's grip on the gears was crushing, nails biting so far into the metal, they had punctured through his suit. A gentle rumble in the back of his thoughts reminded him to focus. He was sure Black did not appreciate having her technical innards aggressively manhandled in his anger, he thought with a calming smile, relaxing his grip. 

"This is for you, Keith."

The lion's wings shuddered violently, jerking forward as energy gathered at the tips of her wings moments before delivering a blast of concentrated energy to the Diabazal base. Flecks of twisted metal and debris scattered as the beam found home, leaving a crater where the heart of the base once stood. 

A deep feeling of satisfaction settled in Shiro's chest, seeing the ruination of what Lotor had worked so hard and long to build. He pulled the lion back and delivered another blow, grinning as even more of the base blew apart and scattered. He could spend hours tearing the base apart until nothing but scrap remained, but his thoughts had managed to move beyond petty vengeance. They needed to work swiftly. 

"Pilots, on your mark."

The paladins jerked into position beside him, tails raised and glowing hotly. At the corners of his vision, he saw the rest of the coalition battle ships pulling into line, canons and blasters quivering into place.

"Ready. Steady."

The inside of the cockpit hummed as Black summoned her energy, wings undulating angrily as she prepared to deliver yet another blow.

"Aim."

Shiro held his breath, all the world going silent. He thought of Keith, smiling weakly at him from his hospital bed, clutching at his hand, loving gaze speaking a thousand words that the man was unable to say aloud. _I love you; I know you can do this; be the leader I know you are, my alpha._

_I love you too, baby._

"Fire!"

For a brief moment the horizon lit up in blinding white light, over a thousand blasts honing in and striking what remained of the Diabazal base. Light flashed, smoke cleared. It would take much more to destroy what remained of the planet, but Shiro had no concern over that.

"Again!"

Salvo after salvo struck the shattered remains of the once great planet, chipping away at its remnant until nothing was left but shards of metal and red space rock. For good measure, Shiro guided the paladins closer to inspect the ruble, unwilling to allow the possibility that they had missed some crucial detail. While their searching eyes probed the debris, the collective voices of the coalition chattered over the communication lines, celebrating the first of what Shiro knew would be many victories. 

Several long minutes later, he pulled the Black Lion back, facing the coalition fleet to address them. 

"Good job, everyone." he beamed proudly at them over the video line. "We've taken out one of Lotor's larger bases. We have a lot more work to do, hundreds more of these bases to liberate or destroy. The task at hand is enormous, but I know that together, with our combined forces, we can finish what we began all those years ago and liberate those still enslaved by the Galra Empire's rule."

Thousands of eyes bore into him, heads nodding, grim expressions and pleased smiles alike. 

"We follow you, alpha Shiro." Kolivan's smooth voice broke through the hush. 

Shiro's mouth quirked. "Alright, team; to the next base! We're heading for La'ad Gal."

He was off before the first rallying cry had started, Black's wings spread wide and proud as he lead the charge. The noise became too much for him to handle and he quietly closed his communication line. Coordinates appeared suddenly for the La'ad Gal base, helpfully provided by Pidge, who had strategically tracked the most efficient war path for them. 

It would not be an easy path, Shiro thought; soon enough, they would encounter hostile parties. Lotor would not stay quiet for long. A dark, bitter part of Shiro rejoiced at the thought; let the prince come. He rather hoped he and Lotor would be able to meet face to face again. 

"Easy." he murmured to himself, attempting to sooth his riled alpha. Bloodshed would not solve anything, only serve to placate his wounded pride. Bloodshed would not help heal his mate...though it might bring a dark smile to Keith's lips when he recounted the tale after the fact.

Keith. Shiro was less than three hours into the mission and he missed his mate dearly. It was the task, he reasoned. He could not help but think of Keith, given the intimate nature of Lotor's offences. Keith would be waiting for him when he returned. All the while, his mate would worry for him as much as he ached to return to the man. 

_We'll make it quick then_ , Shiro resolved. He needed no further motivation to level Lotor's empire than the promise of returning to Keith's arms.

=====

As if to announce their victory, the skies cleared, a piercing blue sky and blazing sun greeting the returning warriors. There was almost no room to land the lions, Olkari was so crowded. The streets were flooded, people of all races packed together with hardly an inch to move as they leaped and screamed for joy at the returning fleet. After much work on the ground crew's behalf, the lion's were able to land, the rest of the ships to dock thereafter. 

No expense had been spared to honor the coalition. Banners from each nation and planet hung from every window and post, the Voltron V emblazoned over many of them. A rainbow of confetti hailed from the sky, covering everything in gleaming colors. It was an awe inspiring, humbling sight and one Shiro had been afraid he would not live to see. 

As soon as he stepped foot from Black's open maw, the roar of the cheering crowd deafened Shiro. Thousands of cries and shouts erupted at the sight of him, the victorious leader of the Voltron coalition, defender of the universe, destroyer of the galra empire. Masses of bodies swarmed the lion's paws and it was through great force and effort that the Blade of Marmora pulled him from the throng and towards the castle.

He shook as many hands as possible as he went, returning kind gestures and words with pleased looks and salutes. The crowd fawned, all but dropping to their knees at his feet in veneration. Truth told, it made Shiro a tad uncomfortable. He was no god, worthy of such reverence and worship. He was just a man, unwilling to stomach the tyranny of an entire universe at the hands of a single spoiled brat. He had done, in his opinion, nothing more than any other man would. He simply had the resources--and the unimaginable power of sentient metal lions--to do so. 

The castle doors sealed closed behind them and a wash of silence came over them. Shiro heaved a sigh of relief, finally able to hear himself think. The rest of the paladins continued to chatter at his back, murmuring nonsensical things he hadn't the energy to contemplate. They were home now; there was only one person Shiro desperately wished to see. 

The game of politics called though. Diplomacy first, personal pursuits second. At the forefront of the welcoming party was the Blade of Marmora, standing formidably in a line before the pack of galactic ambassadors. When the returning warriors drifted to a stop, the Blades knelt, bending their backs in submission.

"Leader; alpha paladin"

Shiro glanced to his side where Kolivan stood, gruff and yet sporting the slightest hint of a grin. The aged man nodded to his soldiers, commanding them to their feet. 

"The day is won." Kolivan said evenly, not even the slightest hint of joy in his tone. "The last quadrant has been liberated."

When the man paused, Shiro stepped forward and offered, "Lotor's control over the quadrant is all but non-existent. There are no more bases left for him to control and several coalition parties have remained on the newly liberated planets to protect them from any retaliation Lotor might think to make. We have truly won. The last item of business is to capture Lotor, which will happen in due time."

Several of the ambassador's bent to speak among themselves. From what Shiro could make of the sibilant whispers, they were pleased. He had delivered on every promise he had made--mostly. They would need to wait for the quadrant to stabilize before they could see to securing trade and opening travel lines. It would be heavy work, but it seemed easy in comparison to the past fifteen years. 

There was further chatter, more words of congratulations, suggestions of celebrations, but Shiro had ceased to listen, his attention snared elsewhere. Far down the hall, almost obscured by shadow, he found the familiar figure of his slender mate, peeking from behind a corner with a shy grin on his face. Shiro had never before felt such a swelling of happiness; he felt as if his heart might burst, his chest almost literally ached. 

With a soft word, he excused himself, slipping away as calmly as he could. It was a chore, when all he wished to do was run to his mate and scoop the man in his arms. Following his example, Keith disappeared as well, circling through the empty halls to meet him. Shiro glanced back at the gathering once, feeling somewhat guilty at his hasty departure. Ryvaina locked eyes with him, a gentle grin curving her mouth. That was odd, he thought; even Ryvaina, being the more demonstrative of her emotions, was reserved. Well, if they could get a grin out of Kolivan, he supposed the rest of the Blades could spare a smile or two as well.

Without realizing, he began running, spotting Keith at the end of the hall, patiently waiting. He barely stopped himself from bowling the man over, skidding to a halt at the last moment and gathering his mate into his arms, lifting and spinning him in adolescent-like mirth.

Keith laughed, securing his arms around the alpha's neck and pressing as close as he possibly could in the position. When his feet touched the ground, he leaned his face against Shiro's chest and melted into his mate's embrace. 

"I missed you."

Shiro keened apologetically, laying a kiss to the top of the man's head. "I missed you too. I thought of you everyday. I wanted you there with me."

And he had wanted to be there with Shiro, with his pack, with his family. It hurt Keith that he had to be absent from the final assault, but there was very little he could do about it. Injured and laid up as he was, no one could fault him. He had heard many of his fellow injured soldiers lamenting their absence on the field, bemoaning the fact that they had come so far, fought for so many years, only to be placed on the sidelines at the end. It was a bitter pill to swallow---but Keith no longer cared. 

His mate was home. Shiro had fulfilled every promise to him. 

"Come on, let's find someplace quiet, where they won't track you down." Shiro would be in high demand at the moment, but Keith wanted just a few minutes alone with the man.

Shiro hummed happily, allowing himself to be pulled towards the elevator. Before Keith had selected a destination, he knew where they were going; the top floor observation deck. The domed room provided a breathtaking view of the city and, with all the commotion outdoors, he was interested to see. While they rode in silence, he glanced to his mate, noting the way Keith fidgeted anxiously. They both had the same thing on their minds then, Shiro thought with a playful grin; they both wanted to get someplace private and lay hands on one another. He had been gone some three weeks and that was far too long to be apart.

The door opened with a ding and Keith stepped out eagerly, only to falter, feet tangling together, body lurching heavily against the wall.

Shiro rushed to his side, slipping an arm around his waist for support. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

A wane smile was flashed his way. 

"I'm fine." Keith answered quietly, hand settling over the carefully tended wound at his neck. "It's just...odd without my gland there. My equilibrium is off."

"Ah."

Shiro knew a thing or two about grievous wounds and their latent effects. It had taken him years to learn to breath through his mouth when sleeping and to teach his left arm to be dominant. It was always a learning curve, coming to terms with each new injury and the permanent effects of their damage. 

With his arm snug around Keith's waist, he steered them towards the observation room, guiding the man to one of the sofas before letting go. Keith would not appreciate being coddled, but he could not help but dote on the man--his fierce little mate. Shiro sighed happily, brushing a hand through Keith's long hair.

"You have a new braid."

Keith fingered the tiny braid hanging beside his temple. "Ryvaina put it in. She said something about certain pleats having different meanings."

"And this one's meaning?"

"Wounded warrior."

Shiro forced his face to remain neutral. He was rather surprised Keith had allowed the woman to place such a meaningful braid in his hair. Then again, the Blade of Marmora had a unique view on battle scars. They were signs of honor, to the Blade--to all the galra, really. The symbol of a wounded warrior focused less on the wounded part and much more on the warrior part, he supposed. That tiny pleat of hair meant that his mate had seen battle and that fact demanded respect.

He stole a kiss, cupping Keith's face reverently. He wanted so much more, wanted to part those soft lips with his insistent tongue and lose himself to the passion that had been building in him for weeks. He wanted to lay his mate out on the ground and rut, consequences be damned.

But that was clearly not what Keith wanted. As soon as he started to lap at the man's lips, Keith was pulling back, placing hands on his shoulders and gently but insistently urging him away. 

They were getting a little too old for letting raw passion guide them, Shiro thought, sitting back on his heels with a soft smile. They had won a great victory. Taking it slow and rekindling their romance one soft touch at a time was an earned reward. The more he dwelled on it, the more he took to the idea. Lovemaking could happen at any time. For the moment, he would wallow in the subtle, gentle romanticism of fleeting touches and meaningful expressions. 

"How was your recovery?" Shiro asked softly, stroking his thumb across Keith's fingers. "I was worried when I left you. I--"

Keith squeezed his hand. "Shiro. I was fine. I _am_ fine. Knair and her team took good care of me."

"I knew she would."

"I don't particularly want to talk about that right now. It's not important. If you really want to discuss it, we can do so later. For now..."

A great cry rose from outside the windows and Shiro stood, unable to curb his curiosity. Pressing a palm to the glass, he watched as the first of the returning soldiers marched through the crowd, arms wide and heads held high in pride. There was no semblance of order; everywhere he looked, men were breaking away and throwing themselves into the herd, looping their arms around loved ones and letting the tide sweep them away. 

Shiro hoped the rest of the paladins were out there somewhere, celebrating their long awaited victory. A small part of him wished to be out there as well, standing amid the coalition banners, confetti gathering on his armor, drowning in the incomprehensible roar of soldiers and civilians alike. 

As if reading his mind, Keith spoke up softly. "You should be out there with them. You're the one that led them to victory."

He turned, smiling at the man tenderly. "I won't deny that I'd like to be out there--maybe I'll join the celebrations later--right now, I want to be with you."

He gazed at Keith, feeling his heart stutter. Every battle he had fought, every wound he had taken, he had done so for Keith. Keith was the light of his life, his reason for living. Without the man, Shiro doubted he would have found the strength to carry on. They were a perfect match, leaning on one another, offering more love and support than could be imagined. He had the sudden fantastic idea that this moment was what his entire life had been leading up to. 

"I love you so much."

Keith extended his hand, beckoning him. "There is--one thing I want to tell you about."

The man's scent changed suddenly, from pleasantly sweet to tangy and anxious. Shiro keened encouragingly, hastily crossing the room and sitting at his mate's side. For a long moment, Keith would not look at him, staring instead at the ground and worrying at his pant's leg as he considered how to begin. The longer he struggled, the more intense the smell became.

Shiro wrinkled his nose, taking the man's hand and cradling it between his own. "Keith, whatever is wrong, you can tell me. You know I won't judge you."

Keith snorted, smiling thinly. "It's nothing like that, it's--Knair had said that she told you that they would run all sorts of tests on me?"

An odd question and one that immediately set Shiro to worry. "Yes, she did. They were worried that having me and Lotor in your head might have upset your internal rhythm."

That was news to Keith, but he hadn't been in the right state of mind at the time to ask questions. "Well, that turned out to be of little consequence."

"Glad to hear it." He had worried about the damage Lotor could have caused in Keith's head. They knew that the prince had some kind of subconscious pull on the man--Shiro's imagination had run wild with all the possibilities of how Lotor could have irrevocably damaged the man's mind. 

"So, Knair's tests revealed something?" he ventured to guess.

Keith's eyes darted away again, bottom lip disappearing between the man's teeth as he chewed anxiously. A new wave of anxiety crested over Shiro; he recognized his mate's nervous habits well. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, Keith turned his body, facing the man with a hesitant expression. "Knair--her tests showed--I--Oh, my god." 

Keith hung his head, unable to find a decent place to begin. He had been rehearsing this speech for days and suddenly he could not find a single word. Blurting the truth was an option, but he preferred for this news to be delivered gently. Shiro continued to pat his hand encouragingly, patiently waiting for him to gather his frayed wits. 

"Shiro."

"Yes? Keith?"

He laughed suddenly, a manic sound. "Kolivan was right."

"Right?" the man echoed. "Right about what?"

"About the machinery on the castleship; they weren't calibrated for a hybrid like myself. They've been giving me inaccurate scans the entire time. It kind of explains why every time I got out of the healing pod, I was still sick."

It took a moment for Shiro's brain to compute what he had been told. Every scan and every test result was erroneous. The devices weren't set for hybrids. He recalled Knair and Ryvaina gutting the equipment on the ship so it would be suitable for Keith but--

He crushed the man's hand in his grip. "Oh my god, Keith, those things could have killed you!"

Kolivan had said much the same thing, Keith recalled. "I don't know about that--"

"Oh my---baby--are you sick? Are you still hurt?" Over the course of fifteen years, any hundreds of things could have gone undiagnosed, internal wounds left to fester until they became terminal. "We have to get you back to the medical bay."

"Shiro."

"I'll have Hunk and Pidge work with all of the best engineers to make sure the ship is up to standards for hybrids."

Keith sighed, rolling his eyes. "Shiro."

"God...baby, are you--"

Keith placed a hand over his mouth, smiling tenderly. Shiro's brows drew, curious over the expression. Whatever news his mate had, it was not the disastrous implications his mind had immediately leaped to. Quite the opposite actually. His heart all but stopped when Keith said reverently,

"Shiro...I'm pregnant."


End file.
